


Subobi Week: Winter 2019/2020

by Millberry_5



Series: Subobi Weeks [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Jango Fett, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Clothed Sex, Cock Cages, Domestic Kink, Forced Orgasm, Free Use, Gags, Hate Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Not Beta Read, Obedience Kink, Omega Obi-Wan Kenobi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Protective clones, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Slavery, Sharing Fantasies, Slavery, SubObi Week, Submissive Obi-Wan Kenobi, Teasing, consent will go across the whole spectrum of enthusiastic to rape so please read the notes, not that Jango will admit that last one, please read the descriptions for each chapter, possessive clones, sometimes it's fine sometimes there's none, they're kind of technically at home with a bunch of family so it's not all the way public, yandere clones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millberry_5/pseuds/Millberry_5
Summary: It is time for the third Subobi week! Which is the first I'm participating in!Separate scenarios/one shots. I'm just posting them all in one thing.So here's submissive Obi-Wan, subjected to various tropes/prompts. Various levels of consent. More description in each chapter, so read the summary and notes for your own sakes and enjoy!
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Boba Fett & Jango Fett, Boba Fett & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi/CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Clone Trooper Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Quinlan Vos
Series: Subobi Weeks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078166
Comments: 125
Kudos: 931
Collections: SubObi Weeks





	1. 1 - Forced Orgasm CodyWan

**Author's Note:**

> Consent level: noncon  
> (maybe arguable dubcon? Not as much noncon as will happen later this week.)
> 
> Obi-Wan is overworking himself; not sleeping, too stressed, too busy, too much work, too little care. Cody is not above fixing this, even when Obi-Wan doesn't necessarily ask for this kind of method.

If he requested those supplies, they’d take three weeks to reach the 442nd. By his calculations, they only had two weeks, at most. But he didn’t want to send backup to Anakin, that was too big of a risk. Sending the extra fighters might let Anakin finish in a week, and then he would have been able to get to the 442nd three days after, true. But there were too many variables and too little luck to believe that everything would go that smoothly. If he sent the fighters to Anakin, there were too few cargo ships and too little supplies to have sent to Antar, late or otherwise.

If the chancellor would just approve a few more requisitions, instead of leaving them all in the core near Coruscant, then there would be enough defense in the mid rim to make sure that the Separatists couldn’t even threaten the inner worlds.

Regardless, he knew exactly how much he had to work with, and knowing that it was too little wouldn’t change the amount; he just had to make the least bad decision with what he had.

It would have helped if the numbers on his pad would stop blurring, of course, but he couldn’t go to sleep yet. He needed to at least get this settled, then two more supply requests and to review and sign off on, and another monthly report if he wanted to call Bail the next day to talk about the latest bill he was advising for. The GAR deserved at least general Republic citizenship for their service, even if they couldn’t get an actual planetary citizenship anywhere.

He heard the door to his room hiss open and took a moment to pause and register that it was Cody in the force.

“I have the final reports on internal statuses, sir, as well as some letters for you personally from the locals,” Cody said, boots clicking on the floor as he crossed the small room.

“Thank you, Cody. I’ll try to look over them tonight, you can just put them…” Obi-Wan trailed off as he looked at his desk, still covered in papers and pads and maps and a few empty cups.

“They’re not urgent, sir. You should leave them for tomorrow. No need to lose out on sleep,” Cody said, underhandedly snarking at him while sounding perfectly polite. Obi-Wan let out a dry, weary chuckle at the barb.

“You might as well add them to a stack,” he said, finally finding that Plo was close enough to assist the 442ndin a week in a half if he left tomorrow. He sent a request off to the man and ordered the siege supplies for the 442nd. Plo would get back to him by noon, before the supply request would be processed, if that didn’t work out, “I still have a few things to do tonight, might as well add a few small reviews,” he continued absently.

“Jag’s been on your case about your sleep hours, remember? Especially since your meditation hours have also gone down. While these might not stress your mind out anymore, reading them tonight will probably stress your body more. Need I remind you that your brain is a part of your body, sir?” Cody said dryly. Obi-Wan heard Cody stop behind the chair and lean his elbows onto its back.

“I am well aware, but the stresses of the war will not wait for a meditative retreat, commander. I’ll be fine doing this. I’ll be done and go to bed in an hour, hour and a half at most,” Obi-Wan said, rearranging his desk so that he could have the next, thankfully far less urgent, supply requests in front of him.

“So… two hours from now at the earliest? You need to be up in six, general,” Cody said.

“I should be able to squeeze in a bit of meditation tomorrow to help make up for it, Cody. Don’t worry,” Obi-Wan said.

He felt a flash of displeasure from Cody at that, followed by a brief set of complicated emotions, confliction, and then Cody settled into a determination that Obi-Wan had felt from him many times on campaigns, as well on one notable occasion where he had been dragged with Obi-Wan to a political event.

“At least let me help you destress a bit, sir? Release tension. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes,” Cody said.

“What were you thinking of, commander?” Obi-Wan asked, letting out half a smile at one of the battalions’ list, letting one or two, supposedly frivolous, non-standard requests through along with the actual necessary supplies. Not enough to draw attention to the men, of course, but enough to give them something enjoyable.

Cody didn’t answer for a moment.

“Trust me, Obi-Wan?” he said. Obi-Wan also heard a light tapping on the side of his chair and reached back for the pads Cody had brought him.

“I usually do, Cody, of course.”

This time when he grabbed the pads, however, unlike all the other times Cody had passed him things without making him turn away from his work, Cody grabbed his wrist in return and pulled it back.

Obi-Wan twisted the other way reflexively, trying to tear out of the hold. The force was suddenly filled with… not quite a warning, there was no malice to prompt that, but an unsettling feeling.

The feeling instantly went away, however, when Cody grabbed his other wrist as soon as it was in range and brought both together behind the chair. Obi-Wan heard the cuffs click and lock down onto his wrists at the same moment he felt the force go quiet, muffled. Like he was suddenly underwater, hearing and sight blurred and dulled to be practically unusable.

He couldn’t do anything but sputter in shock in the second and a half it took for Cody to take the pads from him, walk around the chair, toss them on the desk, and seat himself on Obi-Wan’s lap.

“Cody! What-” Obi-Wan cut himself off with a yelp as Cody started tugging at the bottom of his tunics, pulling his tabards aside.

“You said you trust me, general. I’m just doing my job,” Cody said, voice coming through his helmet as calm as usual, as though he hadn’t just handcuffed and straddled his commanding officer.

“I- I do, but I certainly didn’t agree to be restrained! And I can’t see how this will let me work better!” Obi-Wan exclaimed, trying to squirm a bit as Cody peeled back more and more layers. It was fairly ineffective, especially as Cody moved further up his lap so that he could hardly move his hips at all.

“Part of my job is, of course, making sure you can run this army efficiently, this means reducing stress when it starts getting in the way of your productivity,” Cody said as he pulled down Obi-Wan’s pants and underwear enough for his cock to be completely exposed.

“Cody, stop! I-” Obi-Wan tried to protest, only to stop and whimper when Cody pinched one of his balls. Lightly, but still.

“Thank you, general. As I was saying,” Cody was still speaking evenly as he grabbed Obi-Wan’s shaft. The fabric of his gloves both gripped Obi-Wan’s skin more than a bare hand, creating far more sensation than Obi-Wan was prepared for, and slid smoothly up and down, “My job is to do what it takes to make sure this army runs well. If that means helping my superiors overcome flaws and blind spots, then I will do that. I will overcome any additional flaws you show if you aren’t going to help yourself overcome them on your own. Understand?”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, only to let out a whine as Cody continued stroking him.

“C-Cody, this is-” Obi-Wan yelped again when his other ball got pinched, harder this time.

“If you can’t answer a simple yes or no question, then you need this more than I thought, general. You need some form of destressing and relaxing and I’m going to give it to you. Do you understand?” Cody asked, enunciating his question with two harsh strokes of Obi-Wan’s now completely hard cock.

Obi-Wan moaned and closed his eyes before managing to form words again, “Yes, I understand. But please-” Obi-Wan’s plea was cut off as Cody did… _something_ to stimulate him that had him gasping, eyes flying open.

He couldn’t look away from Cody’s visor, once he caught sight of it. Half because that was where Cody’s eyes were, unseen or not, half out of a mortified fascination of seeing his own reflection in the impersonal glass.

The bags under his eyes seemed smaller with how red his blush made him look. His hair was disheveled, whether that was from Cody’s new method of destressing or his general overworked state, he didn’t know. His eyes seemed to glisten from unshed tears he hadn’t dared to register, and his pupils had blown wide from arousal.

He had no idea what his commander looked like. He just knew what the man was doing, no indication of any feelings behinds the actions. This was not something he was used to. None of it.

Cody didn’t seem phased by the novelty of the situation, however, not as he kept Obi-Wan pinned and jerked him off in an almost methodical manner.

Obi-Wan distantly wondered, as he unwillingly let out a few more moans, if Cody had done this for any of his brothers or anyone else, for how effectively he seemed to be making Obi-Wan lose his composure.

His breath hitched as he finally came, tilting his head up, eyes closed and biting his lip. He still couldn’t move his hips, no matter how hard he tried, and had to sit still as his orgasm washed over him.

When he came down from the high, he lowered his head, panting.

He whined when he felt Cody tug one of his tabards out of his obi. Surely this had been enough? Surely Cody wouldn’t find it necessary to put him through any more?

He felt the linen dab at his skin, cleaning up the bit of mess that had gotten onto him.

The sensation left, although Obi-Wan could still hear the shifting of the cloth, and eventually he heard the tabard drop onto the floor.

“Feeling any better, general?” Cody asked. Obi-Wan almost thought he heard a softer tone through the helmet, but he couldn’t be sure.

He lifted his head and pried open his eyes with great effort, meeting Cody’s supposed gaze through the visor.

His reflection still looked disheveled and wide-eyed, albeit less flushed. He couldn’t figure out what to say, for once.

“General?” Cody asked, reaching a hand up, the hand that hadn’t… done that, and running it through his hair, petting him.

Obi-Wan felt himself lean into the touch, eyelids drooping a bit.

“Tired, sir?” Cody asked after a second. Obi-Wan grunted in response, not able to answer differently. Not sure how to answer.

The helmet transmitted a chuckle as Cody leaned forward and reached around Obi-Wan. And the chair. He heard and felt one of the cuffs unlock, the other remaining on and continuing to prevent him from feeling the force any significant amount.

Cody slid off of him, but before Obi-Wan could even think of moving on his own, his commander picked him up and started carrying him across the room.

“Cody, I’m fine. I let you try that destressing method. I should work,” Obi-Wan said, internally surprised at how soft and slurred the words were.

“And you did very well at it, sir. But you seem ready to sleep now,” and he wasn’t, the orgasm had just relaxed him. He didn’t – rats. That had probably been Cody’s goal all along. Force his body to relax enough that he couldn’t stop it from sleeping, “so I’m more than willing to help you into bed, since I’m partially at fault for this.”

And Obi-Wan supposed that was fair, Cody wouldn’t have needed to do this, and this wouldn’t have been effective, if Obi-Wan had just managed to keep a good enough sleep schedule.

Cody deposited him in his bunk, lying on his side. He took off Obi-Wan’s boots, somewhat soiled leggings, and outer tunics efficiently, leaving Obi-Wan in only his briefs, undershirt, and socks. Cody pulled the blanket up, tucking him in, before removing the other cuff.

Obi-Wan took in a deep breath as the force flowed back in at full strength. He was automatically bombarded by a warm, satisfied feeling from Cody. The man now obviously feeling content and accomplished by what he had done.

Cody reached back out and petted his hair again, force signature shifting to indicate the man was observing and waiting, like he felt in a spar when gauging his opponents likely next move. When Obi-Wan didn’t move, just let the man continue to pet him, and closed his eyes, Cody let out another wave of satisfied pleasure, clearly happy with Obi-Wan’s behavior.

Cody continued petting him for a few more minutes, at least. Obi-Wan felt himself slip under into the realm of sleep, making a note to apologize to Cody in the morning. The man felt so relieved and warm in the force, Obi-Wan clearly had worried him. He’d make sure that Cody didn’t have to do this again.

No, he needed to take care of himself better, find a way to do his work more efficiently. For all the men relying on him, and especially for Cody, who obviously cared about him enough to go to such measures, far beyond what anyone else had ever done for him.

Obi-Wan slept, content to give in and let Cody do what he needed.


	2. 2 - Public CodyWan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consent level: enthusiastic, green light go, everything's consensual even for the audience
> 
> Obi-Wan and Cody are sparring when they decide to make a bet on their last round. Cody wants to ask a question. The consequences are something both they and their audience enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partially inspired/highly influenced by _i feel your breath on my face (your body close to me)_ by Wrenette!  
> (If you haven't read it, consider: you should read it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/13799154)

The buzzer sounded before Cody could charge again. He stopped short and walked over to the bottle and towel he had left on the nearest bench, panting.

“What do you think? Are you up for another one?” Obi-Wan asked, coming over drink from his own bottle. The man wasn’t breathing as hard as Cody, but he was certainly more red. Cody didn’t answer immediately, electing to lean his staff against the bench and rehydrate at least somewhat.

Obi-Wan waited patiently, only taking a small sip of water.

“You have a sick sense of endurance, general,” Cody said. They’d done six rounds already, nearly half an hour of actually sparring.

“Well, I do have to keep up with you, don’t I?” Obi-Wan said, flashing a look at Cody that meant the man had actually intended for the innuendo, not that it would be very appropriate for Cody to call him out on it. He was called the Negotiator for a reason, after all.

Cody stared into those eyes, twinkling with mischief, registered how less tense Obi-Wan was after finally getting to practice non-force combat, and sighed.

“I suppose I could do one more, sir,” he said, finally letting out a small smile.

“Oh, come on, sirs! We haven’t even finished taking bets yet!” Waxer called out. He was, indeed, walking up and down the room with a pad and talking to a number of brothers.

“Either of you want to place one yourselves?” Boil said from the other side of the room, obviously having gotten dragged into Waxer’s mess again.

“Only if you want a thrown fight. Anyone bet on that yet?” Cody asked, rolling his eyes. Obi-Wan chuckled at the snark.

“Well the betting does make watching these things more entertaining, at least.”

“If they’re bored of watching us spar, they could just train themselves. It’s not like there aren’t another twenty-four mats set up,” Cody said, gesturing to all the free space around them.

“Fair enough. Although a bet would make it more interesting. Why don’t we make one?” Obi-Wan asked. Cody glanced sideways at his partner and raised a slightly incredulous eyebrow.

“On what?”

Obi-Wan shrugged, “Surely there’s something you’d be interested in winning,” he said, a small smile on his face, “something you want.”

Cody froze at that, tensing slightly. There was something he wanted. But he wasn’t going to make that part of a bet. But Obi-Wan was looking at him in a way that always made him want to play along…

“I… There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for about a month now. I win: I get to ask you and if the answer’s no we pretend that I never asked,” Cody said, forcing himself to say at least that before he backed out. Again.

Obi-Wan looked at him, considering.

“That’s perfectly doable, if a bit smaller than I was expecting… hm… I suppose then, my request, if I win, is that you don’t check my tea stash for the next two leaves we get.” Because of course Obi-Wan was still trying to get _those brands_ on board.

“You know Jag’s got me doing that for a reason, right?” Cody said, leveling a bemused smile at the other man.

“A very unnecessary reason, yes,” Obi-Wan said back, “Waxer! Boil! Are you done taking bets yet? We’re both going to cool down at this rate,” he called out.

“Almost, general!” Waxer called back cheerfully.

“Hand to hand, this time? Either with or without pads,” Obi-Wan offered. Cody swallowed at that offer.

“That’s fine. No pads, if you don’t mind.” Then the additional weight wouldn’t keep tricking his body into thinking it was hitting harder than it was. On Kamino it was no padding or their armor. Soft pads for sparring weren’t something he even knew existed until the Jedi had gotten a small supply on every ship.

Obi-Wan smiled and stripped off his pads before offering his hand to Cody. Cody got rid of the last of his pads and took it, letting Obi-Wan lead him back onto the mat.

The men around them, still all very obviously just here to watch their superior officers beat each other up, started cheering as they separated, dropped into stances, and started circling.

Eventually, Cody moved in first. The whole point of this was Obi-Wan getting used to being attacked after being deprived of the force, after all. His opponents would be on the offensive. And, well, even besides trying to win his prize or cowering out of that chance, he couldn’t afford for Obi-Wan to start bringing his _concoctions_ on board again. Jag would lead the medics in a mutiny and kill them both.

Obi-Wan braced himself and let Cody make contact on his first charge, as he’d done the other times Cody had made the first move, to simulate being caught by surprise, and quickly pushed back against Cody, separating them.

Cody redirected and continued his charge. Obi-Wan blocked this time when Cody reached them.

They exchanged blows, broke apart, exchanged again, and again. And again.

Cody spared half a glance to see they’d already used two minutes on the timer someone had started again, and almost got kicked in his head for his trouble. Obi-Wan would have pulled the kick at the last second, and he needed to practice those moves, but Cody was still going to berate himself for the slip afterwards.

What was going to happen if this was another draw? They hadn’t decided.

Knowing Obi-Wan, he’d probably argue that they both did not lose and therefore got their prizes. Cody didn’t want to risk losing that argument. He renewed his vigor in one more, hopefully final, push.

He swept Obi-Wan’s leg, not enough to make the man fall, or even lose his balance, really, but it made him shift his weight back and immobilized him enough for Cody to pull back his leg into a hook kick that finally landed solidly on Obi-Wan’s gut.

The man bent over the blow, as his body was supposed to, and Cody wasted no time in retracting his leg and launching himself onto his general, forcing them both to the floor.

They wrestled for a few moments. Obi-Wan was a slippery bastard as usual, but this wasn’t his forte to begin with and he had been tired by so much sparring and he was still using energy to make sure he didn’t reflexively use the force. Cody, despite being a bit tired as well, was far less distracted and much more in his element.

It still took him another twenty seconds to get a good enough lock on Obi-Wan for the man to admit defeat. The man laughed at him.

“All right, all right, you win this one, Cody,” Obi-Wan said, like they were casually chatting over a meal, not sweating and panting flush against each other on the floor, Cody pinning the man down.

He should roll off.

Instead, he rearranged so that he was propped up above Obi-Wan’s head, looking at his face, while the rest of him used Obi-Wan’s torso like a couch. He heard some of the men cheer and some groan as Obi-Wan smiled up at him.

“Now, I believe you get to ask me a question?” Obi-Wan asked, cocking his head. And, kriff, how did the man make Cody feel so much from so little.

Cody leaned down to whisper in Obi-Wan’s ear, still wanting the conversation to be somewhat private, even if one of the possible results was decidedly not.

“Will you let me Claim you?” He asked, more breath than actual voice, but unwavering. He’d wavered for a month. If Obi-Wan didn’t want to go that far in their relationship, then that was fine, Cody had gotten more than he ever thought he would. But if Obi-Wan was willing, Cody would take as much of the man as he could.

Obi-Wan didn’t answer for a long moment and Cody winced. Even if they agreed to pretend he never asked, it would still be a little awkward, and he would still need to take a trip to 79s with Rex the next time they made it back to Coruscant. He lifted himself back up so that there was a foot or so between their faces and looked down at Obi-Wan’s shocked face.

Too much, too fast. Definitely. Too out of nowhere for his cautious Obi-Wan to ever consider, he should have seen it coming.

“Right. This never happened, then,” Cody said, voice almost unaffected. Hopefully it could be chalked up to their previous exercise, “We should-”

Cody was cut off from trying to play off the situation by Obi-Wan grasping his shirt and pulling him down into a teeth-clanking kiss.

Cody heard a few men holler and whistle at that, before processing what the kiss actually meant. Obi-Wan released them from their kiss after a few seconds, pushing them far apart enough to actually see each other’s faces, keeping his hand twisted in Cody’s shirt.

“I’m yours. Let them know,” he said, eyes wide, almost desperate.

Cody growled at that before leaning down to attack Obi-Wan’s neck, untying Obi-Wan’s tunic at the sides and spreading it open, marking further down as he got access to that skin as well.

That seemed to be enough for his brothers to understand what was going on. If the way they started cheering and whooping was indication, at least.

“Cody, lube,” Obi-Wan reminded him, voice soft. And already openly desperate. His lube, unfortunately, was on his belt, which was laying with the rest of his armor on the racks halfway across the room.

“None of your pear poodoo, Longshot,” Cody said, pointing a finger at his brother when he reached for his belt, “does anyone have actual, normal lube?”

Waxer elbowed Boil until the man grumbled and got a bottle from their stash on his belt. He lobbed it to Cody then settled into a squat to watch.

Cody caught the lube with ease then looked down to see Obi-Wan had managed to get out of his tunics and half-wiggle out of his pants without him noticing. He really was Cody’s eager jeti’ika.

Cody finally backed off a bit so that he could take off Obi-Wan’s boots, pants, and underwear, leaving the man completely nude on the mat. Obi-Wan retaliated by half sitting up and working his blacks open, peeling the suit down until Cody took back control and removed the hands, leading Obi-Wan back down to lay flat on the mat, hands above his head in a loose hold. Directing, ordering, but not actually restraining.

A few more hollers registered in his mind, now that the men were absolutely certain what was going on. Most had known in theory, through rumors or implications, that he and Obi-Wan were together, but it was a very different thing for a relationship to be all-but-confirmed than it was to do a public Claiming. It was very convenient to have so many of them here already.

Claimings weren’t to be taken lightly, after all. The more witnesses, the stronger a Claiming was considered. Well, it was one part of what made a strong Claiming.

“Keep your hands there, it keeps you exposed,” Cody said, voice already rough from trying to hold back enough to give a bit of a show.

Obi-Wan had asked Cody to make sure the vode knew who he belonged to, after all.

Obi-Wan whined even as he complied, letting his head fall back onto the mat.

Cody lubed up his fingers first. He knew he liked watching his cyare fuck himself on his fingers. It would give his brothers a good show.

Obi-Wan responded to the first finger as he usually did. Eagerly.

He let Cody move it in and out to open him up a bit more and then, when Cody decreased his movement’s until he was almost still, Obi-Wan keened and started moving his hips himself, slowly at first, to make sure that Cody would let him, then more vigorously.

Cody added the second finger as he started to move again, actively helping Obi-Wan show the brothers exactly who he belonged to.

Obi-Wan was moaning, back arching off the ground a bit, even as he kept his arms above his head where Cody had left them.

Obi-Wan let out a particularly lascivious moan the next time Cody managed to hit his prostate, causing a few wolf whistles and hollers from their audience. Who were now much closer than when they had started, leaving only the mat they had sparred on as their improvised stage. Cody figured that his vode had gotten to see enough of him fingerfucking their general.

He peeled his blacks off a little bit more, until his cock, already hard and starting to leak, was free to finally use on his lover.

He didn’t particularly mean to hurry, but Obi-Wan’s body was so used to him, and he was excited to finally get to properly claim his cyare, that he penetrated Obi-Wan far quicker than he intended, especially given that they were on only a mat with no pillows or blankets. Well, he didn’t actually hurt Obi-Wan, if the pleased moan was anything to go by, and he wasn’t planning on making a habit of this, so it should be fine this time.

He slid out at a slightly more controlled pace, leaving just the head in, holding it for a moment for his vode to see. Obi-Wan stayed perfectly still, a perfect showing of possession, letting Cody control the entire Claiming.

The man whimpered and Cody pushed back in all the way, causing them both to moan. He gave a few more thrusts like that before finally speaking, “you can move your arms now.”

As submissive as Obi-Wan tended to be, Claimings didn’t require complete submission from a clone or non-clone. It was far more common for all participants to be active, to show that they wanted to Claim and be Claimed.

Obi-Wan responded to the permission by launching up, grabbing his shoulders, and falling back down onto the mat, dragging Cody with him. And causing the next thrust to go in far more powerfully.

Cody wasn’t sure if he or Obi-Wan moaned louder at that.

Regardless, it resulted in a thorough, vigorous pace, both of them easily synching up to push towards each other at the same time. He and Obi-Wan continued moaning, and he was pretty sure he could hear swears and whimpers from their audience, as well as what was probably muffled moans and groans as his vode tried not to detract attention from them.

As they continued, Obi-Wan definitely grew louder than him. Mewls and whimpers filled in the few moments he wasn’t moaning, and Cody could see him coming undone like that time they’d gotten two days without any connectivity to anyone in hyperspace and spent most of it in Obi-Wan’s quarters.

It was even more intoxicating now than then, with how quickly Obi-Wan had gotten to this point and the additional thrill that came from this being a Claiming. From knowing most of his closest vode were watching, witnessing, a declaration of Obi-Wan belonging to Cody. They had almost nothing that belonged to them. So to declare yourself to belong to one of them… the vode considered it a commitment on par with their loyalty to the Republic, different for being developed and chosen, but as important and unconditional as that bond.

Obi-Wan grabbed the back of his neck and dragged him down into a kiss. After a moment, without letting him go, Obi-Wan came. Between feeling Obi-Wan clench and spasm around him, the knowledge that Obi-Wan had come just from him fucking his hole with his vode watching, and the desperate kiss, Cody followed only a few seconds later, groaning and spilling into Obi-Wan.

There were whistles and cheers as they rode out their orgasms together, as well as a few groans that made Cody suspect that a few of his vode would need to clean their blacks thoroughly before they joined back up with the 501st.

Obi-Wan finally stopped the kiss, letting his head fall back onto the mat, panting and flushed. Cody let himself lay on top of his lover, lazily giving his neck a few pecks as they caught their breaths.

“General, Commander,” said a vod. Cody looked up to see Wooley in his armor, holding a data pad. He waited until they were both looking at him before continuing.

“The council has rescheduled their call until tomorrow at ten. We’re still on track to meet up with the 501staround noon. You both have a little under twenty-four hours without any actual responsibilities,” he said. And Cody quickly connected the dots there. He had just gotten to Claim Obi-Wan. Now they had time to celebrate.

Cody carefully slid out of Obi-Wan, causing the man to whine. He watched a bit of his cum slowly spill out of Obi-Wan, a clear marking of his jeti’ika. Who was looking back up at him with wide, clearly aroused, pupils and a renewed blush.

“I hope you weren’t planning on walking much for the rest of the day, Obi-Wan,” he said, already thinking of which positions he’d like to take his lover in. Obi-Wan whined again before gathering himself enough to speak as Cody pulled his blacks back up and refastened them.

“I could be amendable to other plans,” he said, voice excited and low but soft.

Cody smirked at that and grabbed his cyare, throwing him over his shoulder and causing the man to yelp as he started to walk them out of the training room, his vode immediately parting to give him a more direct path back to Obi-Wan’s room.

“Cody! My clothes!” he exclaimed, wiggling a little, but not seriously trying to get away.

“Don’t worry, Obi, it’s not like you’ll need them,” Cody said, casually bringing the hand not holding onto Obi-Wan up to play with his lover’s hole, letting a little more of his cum dribble out and down Obi-Wan’s thighs.

Obi-Wan moaned at that.

Cody continued to play with Obi-Wan’s hole as he walked them through the halls and Obi-Wan renewed his squirms from being stimulated.

“Bastard,” he bit out, breath labored from being toyed with like this.

“That’s what you like about me,” Cody replied.

“Yes, well, I’ve never been accused of good taste,” Obi-Wan snarked back. Cody hummed at the barb, amused.

“Your taste is good enough for me, cyare,” Cody said, nodding at a duo of patrolling vode, who startled only slightly at seeing their naked general thrown over Cody’s shoulder with an obviously and currently being abused hole.

Cody added a second finger as they continued and got a muffled moan in response.

“Cody, please,” Obi-Wan whined.

“Almost there, ner jeti’ika, then I’ll give you what you need,” Cody reassured him.

He had the rest of the day to do so, after all, he planned to make good use of it.


	3. 3 - Cockcage RexObi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consent level: enthusiastic
> 
> Obi-Wan doesn't have a lot he can give his lover. That's the nature of their lives. His cock, though, that he can give. That belongs to Rex and only Rex.  
> So it makes perfect sense to them to keep it nice and secure when they're separated. This is only one of many fond reunions.

Rex found him in his combined office and bedroom, working behind his small desk, as usual. Obi-Wan gave the form he was submitting one last quick review before submitting it. He saved his other documents before greeting the other man.

“Cody’s gotten you reacquainted with the Negotiator, I trust?” he asked, putting away his data pads.

“He figured I could do that on my own, actually,” Rex responded before turning Obi-Wan’s chair and kissing him.

Obi-Wan moaned into the kiss, letting Rex press him into the minimal padding, aggressively reacquainting them.

The chair started rolling and Obi-Wan pushed back, Rex let him stand up and kick the chair aside before pushing him back into the wall, still not letting him escape the kiss.

Obi-Wan groaned as Rex’s hands started wandering, lightly outlining his silhouette and only occasionally skittering across him. It wasn’t enough.

“Rex, please. I’ve been good,” he begged, words muffled by his lover’s mouth. He felt Rex’s chuckle rumble through the man’s chest before he could hear it.

“Have you, now?” Rex asked, finally breaking the kiss and staring at him, heat in his gaze, arousal reflected even more in the force. Obi-Wan swallowed at the intensity of it, at having Rex so close after so long, buying himself a moment.

“Yes, Cody knows. Surely he told you?” he keened. Rex hummed, taking his time to play with the edges of Obi-Wan’s tunics first. Obi-Wan could feel his fingernails running up and down his skin as Rex slowly teased his neckline just a bit more open.

“He did. He said the cage was on and untouched except for when he had to take it off for a medical examination. Because you had been stampeded,” Rex said, voice falling flat with disapproval at the end, his hands stilled as he stared at Obi-Wan, waiting.

“I didn’t mean to, I swear. Some men had fallen into the canyon, it made sense for me to help them get out. The mine was a surprise to me and the animals both. And I dodged enough that the medics didn’t even need to keep me after a basic checkup,” Obi-Wan said, pleading his case. He was trying to take care of himself more, be less reckless, like Rex had asked. This had actually been just bad luck, for once.

Rex pulled back the tunics on his left side before attacking the skin there. Obi-Wan moaned, both at the sensation and the idea of Rex leaving a mark on him, even if it had to be kept where others couldn’t see it.

“You did good, Obi. Clothes off,” Rex ordered, moving back enough for him to undress while still being caged against the wall by the man.

He took off his clothes as quickly as he could, toing off his boots and socks when Rex wouldn’t give him enough room to bend down, letting everything drop to the floor unceremoniously. When he got down to his pants, Rex moved back in to kiss him. He took off his pants and underwear before getting to work on Rex’s grey uniform, treating those clothes in much the same way.

When he had gotten them both appropriately undressed, Rex finally grabbed him properly, using his whole hand to drag him over to his bunk and making him sit down on the bunk. Alone. Rex nudged his knees apart as he kneeled between them, then started inspecting the cock cage holding Obi-Wan flaccid. He stayed still as Rex smiled at its relatively untampered state, reaching a hand out and playing with his balls for a moment before beginning to kiss a trail up the inside of his right thigh. Obi-Wan stayed still for him, letting Rex do what he wanted.

Rex went all the way up his thigh before dodging his cock and kissing all the way up his stomach and neck, which left Obi-Wan in the predicament of both wanting to crane his neck to give Rex better access and wanting to tilt his head down and properly kiss his lover. Rex made his way up Obi-Wan’s neck before he could make a decision, however, and Obi-Wan returned the kiss to his mouth vigorously. It had been far too long; he’d missed Rex so much in the past few months.

Rex gently pushed him away a few moments later, causing Obi-Wan to whine even as Rex went back to kneeling between his legs. The man had the audacity to chuckle at the noise.

“Sorry, Ob’ika, I know you had to wait a while. Didn’t expect Vaal or Agamar to mess up timetables that much,” Rex said, finally uncurling the hand he’d had clenched to reveal the small key to Obi-Wan’s cock cage.

Obi-Wan spread his legs to give Rex better access as the man moved forward to finally unlock him.

“You could have asked for an exception during a call though, you were certainly willing to do plenty of other things over comms,” Rex continued, undoing the small lock and removing it. Obi-Wan kept still, his hands holding onto the sheets beside him, as Rex slid the cage off, making him bite down on a moan as the rings moved down along his cock, before moving back to his desk and putting everything down.

“It’s yours though. I meant that. No reason for anyone but you to use it,” Obi-Wan said, certainly not pouting. Rex barely paused as he turned around, even as Obi-Wan shuddered at the wave of arousal that he released in response.

Rex made sure to kiss his breath away before saying anything more, barely touching his cock, just a few strokes, enough to make him fully hard.

“Then it would be a waste for me to not use it well, wouldn’t it?” Rex said, breaking the kiss and smirking when he seemed to think Obi-Wan was undone enough. He certainly was at the point where he could only whimper in response, at least.

“Tabard,” Rex ordered casually. Obi-Wan complied by reaching out a hand and using the force, not wanting to move from his position half under Rex.

The tabard snapped into his hand and he immediately handed it off. Rex threw it over his shoulder before using his hands to direct Obi-Wan to lay down on the bunk face up, hands loosely crossed above his head, only needing to use gentle touches that Obi-Wan was more than willing to follow.

Rex slid the tabard off his shoulder as his other hand grabbed Obi-Wan’s wrists and moved them up to the small bars that supposedly counted as a headboard before tying them to the top bar. Obi-Wan groaned as soon as Rex properly straddled him, pinning him to the thin mattress.

“Don’t worry, Ob’ika, I’m going to take good care of you,” Rex said smoothly, rolling his hips. Obi-Wan keened at the sensation, almost overwhelmed and wanting more.

“Rex, please. Please, I’ve been good,” he begged. He wanted to stay still, not do anything unless Rex told him to, but he wanted Rex to actually do something, anything, to him.

“You have been, yes. Think you can keep being good?” Rex asked. Obi-Wan nodded, “Even if it means not coming until I say so?”

He nodded again, keening.

“Good,” Rex said, vicious, before lifting his hips and sliding down Obi-Wan’s cock.

Obi-Wan moaned and had to try hard not to come from that alone.

“Because I plan on using you and your dick a lot tonight,” Rex said, an excited smirk growing on his face.

Obi-Wan whimpered in anticipation.


	4. 5 - Omegaverse JangoObi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consent level: as consensual as possible given that there's an unintentional heat involved
> 
> Boba Fett has been kidnapped by smugglers for two weeks. When his buir finds him, the smugglers have hell to pay. This doesn't necessarily fix the problem that Obi-Wan, his new friend who's been taking care of him, has a small fever. Jango doesn't like Jedi, but this one just spent two weeks taking care of his kid and is about to go to heat; his code of honor means he'll have to help no matter how much he hates the Jedi on principle. Obi-Wan would theoretically like for a mission to not go completely wrong for once, but this time probably wasn't too bad, all things considered, except for his body making everything awkward by going into heat...

Obi-Wan woke from his light slumber when he felt the ship tremble. His eyes flew open and he held still, waiting. There were a few more rumbles. Despite the cuffs, cheap enough that they could only hamper his force sense, he could feel enough to get a sense that it wasn’t just engine trouble.

When the feeling didn’t dissipate despite the trembling stopping, he gently nudged the sleeping child still curled up in his lap.

“Obi-Wan?” Boba asked quietly, not quite as light a sleeper as his companion, but quickly waking up, still on guard from having spent the last two weeks captured.

“I don’t know yet, but something has happened,” Obi-Wan said, voice equally quiet.

Boba shifted off of the man’s warm lap, moving with him to stand against the wall of their small cell, holding onto the other’s pants tightly. They waited there for several minutes before anything came close enough for Obi-Wan to feel down in the brig. Panic, fear, anger, the adrenaline he associated with fights, something that was perhaps determination.

“I think it’s time for us to try to leave, young one,” Obi-Wan said, still cautiously quiet. Boba clung a little closer.

* * *

Jango shot at the smugglers still in his way indiscriminately. He knew this ship model fairly well, for all it was popular with large smuggling groups like this one. He knew exactly where he was going to get to the lowest level, to the brig.

When he had the hallway down to three smugglers, one turned and tried to run around the corner, only to swear and fly back into view, hitting the wall and sliding down, unconscious.

Jango recognized the work of a force user and cursed under his breath, too low for his helmet to pick up. If it was a Jedi then he’d want to kill them, but a Jedi fighting smugglers would probably help him find Boba, or at least not stop him as they went about their business. It would, unfortunately, be better to not show any aggression towards the hut’uun. If it wasn’t a Jedi, however, there was a very short list of bad options for the force user to be.

In the end, he saw a human, or possibly near-human, in light Jedi robes round the corner cautiously after he had killed the other two smugglers, staying close to the wall and corner. Jango held his fire as the Jedi’s robes shifted, before Boba carefully peeked around the Jedi’s legs, instantly recognizing him and lighting up.

“Buir!” he called, relief clear in his voice.

Boba almost ran to him, but instead looked up at the Jedi in confusion right before they shouted, “behind you!” and ducked back around the corner.

Jango turned and moved into a doorway’s alcove as he started firing at the new wave of smugglers. Only four this time.

He quickly finished them off, blood singing with adrenaline and anger again before he moved down the hallway and around the corner.

The Jedi had Boba protectively placed behind them, no weapons drawn. Jango registered that the Jedi had been stripped of their outer layers and belt, and so likely had no weapons, let alone the usual lightsaber.

“I mean you and your son no harm,” the Jedi said calmly, raising their hands slowly to show they didn’t have any weapons. Except the force, of course.

Boba ran the few steps over to Jango and latched onto him with all the fierceness a five-year-old could muster.

“They put me in Obi-Wan’s cell. He got us out when he felt you,” Boba explained. The Jedi nodded subtly to agree with Boba before suddenly tensing. Jango sighed.

“Where are the next ones coming from?” he asked, figuring it was the Jedi’s force sense.

The Jedi pointed back and then left.

“Right. Boba, do you know how to get to the fore-starboard dock on this ship? That’s where I boarded,” Jango explained, when Boba answered affirmatively, he continued, “Good. Obi-Wan, correct? I trust you can protect my ad’ika along the way?” the question was more of an order, really. The Jedi took a second to lick his lips, dry from his captivity, most likely, before answering.

“Yes. I should be able to do so. I will put the utmost effort in,” he said, somewhat slowly, which was a fair answer given his unarmed state, and the tendency for smugglers to have more weapons than brains.

Jango started walking down the hall towards the still incoming enemies, nudging Boba to go with the Jedi, willing to trust the man’s imposed moral code to protect Boba for now. He had an entire ship to decimate.

* * *

Jango opened the hatch to Slave I, pleased that all the locks had been put back into place. He’d felt the smuggling gang’s destruction completely necessary. Worth the risk of leaving his child with the Jedi for half an hour. It still relaxed a bit him to see a solid sign that today was finally working out well after the past two weeks.

The Jedi, Obi-Wan, had Boba tucked up against his far side as they leaned against the hallway’s wall, partially covered by an upright beam, a wickedly curved gutting knife from the kitchen in his hand. Jango silently approved the weapon choice as he closed and resealed the door.

He approached the two and Boba attached to his leg as soon as he was within reach. He held out his hand and the Jedi handed over the knife with slow caution, but without hesitation.

“So, you’re Obi-Wan, then?” he asked, looking the man over more closely. Still well-muscled, a slight pallor to his already pale skin, no obvious injuries. Boba had implied that Obi-Wan had been imprisoned longer than him, but the man didn’t seem to have any signs of a significantly longer captivity.

“He is. He took care of me in the cell. They didn’t even give us blankets, but he made sure I ate more and kept me warm, and didn’t let them near me or even talk to me,” Boba answered for the man, looking up at Jango with bright eyes, “but he also got a fever yesterday, so it’s good you found us today, buir. I was worried,” Boba continued.

He did not say that he was scared, and that Obi-Wan comforted him. He did not mention all the reassurances Obi-Wan gave him that his buir would indeed come and rescue him. He didn’t even realize how important that was to have his belief validated by someone else, especially as a five-year-old. He did not want to realize how lost he would have been if he had lost his only companion, his anchor, to fever.

Boba didn’t say or, in some cases, even think any of these things, but Jango understood them anyways. He was alive and as well as he was in large part because he had learned to read between the lines, whether they were literal or metaphorical.

He also, somewhat unfortunately for his sense of vengeance, understood that Boba was only alive and as well as he was because of this Jedi. That he owed this Obi-Wan now.

He owed this Jedi a debt, and surely giving him a ride back to a Republic world without harming him, especially if he gave him something for the fever, should repay it. And the Jedi didn’t seemed inclined to fight him or show any aggression, despite the man’s wary body language towards him, so Jango took off his helmet and met the other man’s eyes as he asked, “Really?”

“Er, yes, Boba was getting worried, it’s perfectly understandable, although I just have a slight temperature right now,” the omega, Jango could smell it now over the lingering scents of blood and blaster fire with his helmet off, said.

And the phrasing there, combined with the scent and obviously heavy breathing and temperature, was worrying.

“Right now?” Jango asked. Obi-Wan chewed his lip for a moment before answering.

“I’m… between implants. My pills were disguised among the other things in my obi - my belt. They just took that. It was easier than figuring out how to make it safe to let me keep it,” Obi-Wan said, clearly worried and uncomfortable in his body language, even if he managed to keep it out of his scent.

“You’re going into heat?” Jango asked, more for confirmation than actual doubt. He kept his voice calm, if any of them started panicking, things would only get worse.

Obi-Wan blushed, bright red blooming across his face, before nodding. Boba looked up at Jango curiously.

Jango had taught his child many things in his five years of life, including the idea that people fell somewhere on the spectrum of alpha, beta, and omega, most neatly slotting into one category or another, and that no one was more or less dangerous because of their alignment. Worth more or less.

He had also taught Boba the words heat and rut and told him which alignments they were usually associated with, but this didn’t mean Boba had any real knowledge of what these things entailed. Except that he now knew an omega’s heat could have a small fever as a symptom.

Jango glanced at the door still technically attached to the smuggler’s ship, which would eventually be found by others in the ring, and made a decision.

“Bob’ika, take Obi-Wan to the bigger bedroom and get him settled, get as many clean linens and pillows as you can. I’m getting us out of here,” Jango said, ruffling Boba’s hair before gently pushing the child forward to the omega.

Boba latched onto Obi-Wan’s hand enthusiastically before dragging him down the hallway. Jango followed at a more sedate pace as he made his way to the cockpit.

* * *

Jango made his way back to the living area of the ship after he’d gotten them into hyperspace and made sure they’d be untraceable by any of the former smugglers’, now corpses, friends.

Boba exited his room, carrying his spare bed linens and brightening up as soon as he saw his buir.

“These count too, right?” he asked, clearly excited by his task and wanting to do well at it. Jango had to pause and push down a swell of almost-anger at the idea of his son wanting to help a Jedi, he was trying to help his companion, in reality. He hadn’t interacted with Obi-Wan as a Jedi. Boba wasn’t even thinking about that part of Obi-Wan.

Jango was also about to ignore it. He wasn’t going to help a Jedi, he was going to help an omega, because the only safe place for him to have a heat was Jango’s ship and the only thing Slave I had to help an omega through heat was Jango himself.

And a few extra pillows.

Jango followed his son into his room to see the omega perched on the bed. A few of the pillows had been arranged around the bed, but all of the other materials were still very clearly stacked in two piles on the bed. Boba handed the next set to Obi-Wan, who quietly, gently thanked him before cautiously setting the materials next to him.

Obi-Wan looked up at Jango, tensing as he turned his attention from the younger Fett to the older one.

“Bob’ika, why don’t you go prepare a snack for yourself? We have some of the juice packets in your favorite flavor,” Jango said, voice even and calm.

Boba brightened for a moment, caught up in a young child’s joy of treats, before looking back at Obi-Wan in concern. “Are you gonna be okay now?” he asked. Obi-Wan glanced back down at the young child then softened his expression to a faint smile.

“I will be. The blankets and pillows will help a lot. Thank you, Boba,” Obi-Wan said, reaching down and ruffling Boba’s hair in affection. Boba beamed up at him, satisfied at a job done well and a guardian’s, however temporary he might have been so, praise.

Jango similarly ruffled his ad’ika’s hair as Boba passed him to get to the kitchen before turning back to the omega who seemed somewhat unwilling to nest, despite having both need and opportunity for it.

“I understand this isn’t an ideal way to have a heat,” Jango began, decidedly ignoring the little snort Obi-Wan gave at the understatement, and its slightly hysteric undertone, “but it’s the best we can do under the circumstances, especially since I don’t have anything to stop or lessen your heat.”

“I understand that, though you don’t need to go this far for me. Really, I’d be fine in the other bedroom, or even the brig. You don’t need to give up your bed for… _this_ ,” Obi-Wan spat out the last word like his heat was a scandalous faux pas made at a high-society party. And Jango had to take a moment to wrap his head around the many things wrong with what Obi-Wan had just said. He still needed another moment after that, he found.

“Boba told you which rooms were whose, then?” he asked, reaching for anything. Obi-Wan just gave him a judgmental look before pointedly looking around the room at his personal belongings, before finishing his visual tour by nodding at the armor case for his beskar’gam set into the wall. Jango sighed at the unintended slip before closing the door, then moved across the room to start putting his armor in the case.

“Didn’t actually think you’d have that much observation ability now, if your heat already started yesterday,” Jango said, methodically taking off the pieces of armor. He took good care of it, so it could handle not getting a complete clean up for a few days this one time.

“Er, well,” Obi-Wan started to say before stopping himself. Jango half-turned to give the man an unimpressed look at his recalcitrance. Obi-Wan flushed, “it technically started the morning before that. The cuffs they had me in were low quality, so I was able to use the force enough to slow down the heat’s progress significantly,” Obi-Wan admitted.

Jango had to take another moment to pause to process that this was the man’s third day of heat, minimized or not, with no relief. He used the excuse of putting away the rest of his armor to figure out what to say and how.

“You’re in here because you’re an omega in heat and this is the most comfortable room for that. If I’m helping someone through their heat then I’m doing the best I can to do so. I’m certainly not putting you in the brig, with its tiny cot and no comfort, for that. And I am helping you through this. I may not like Jedi, but you helped my son survive being kidnapped, even helped him escape, and once again, you’re an omega. In heat,” Jango reiterated, and when Obi-Wan looked ready to protest, he added, “I’ve raised my son to not take advantage of an omega’s heat unless absolutely necessary. I’m not letting one fool’s stubbornness make a hypocrite out of me, not in this,” he continued as he turned back, slowly starting to walk back to his bed, “And once again, the brig only has a cot, my son’s room a child’s bed, so this really will be the best place for us to get through your heat,” Jango finished.

Obi-Wan startled at that last declaration before swiftly standing up from the bed, now seeming even more improper a place to occupy, just as Jango came to a stop in front of him, bringing them to eye level with each other.

“Hold on! A safe place and things to nest are one thing, but I can’t ask you to- to share my heat! I’m imposing enough without making you do… _that_ ,” Obi-Wan objected. Jango sighed like Obi-Wan was being obtuse, which from Jango’s view, he was.

“I don’t have any toys, not for an omega. I don’t have any medications to make this easier. Implants make the next two or three heats more intense. I’ve taken a hormone dampener for alphas,” and thankfully he was prepared enough to always have a shot of it for himself, “I also have an emergency contraceptive if you want to take that afterwards. Your choice. The heat, however, is not. So I’m choosing to help you through it,” Jango explained. And it was day three of this man’s heat, why was he explaining anything? A bit of the Force or no, the man should be running on pure instinct by now, not making Jango debate the screwed-up logic he operated on.

Jango stepped further into Obi-Wan’s space, because the man seemed ready to run out the door and he was _not_ having this argument where Boba could hear it. He noticed Obi-Wan reacting by both tensing and baring his neck slightly, a mix of submissive and attempted defiance. More against the heat than him, he was fairly certain. He made sure that he didn’t actually touch Obi-Wan, that would be counter-productive to getting the man to relax, for the moment at least.

“I’m choosing this, Obi-Wan. Let me help. It doesn’t have to mean anything beyond that,” Jango said, trying to keep his newfound annoyance pushed down. He was offering help to a Jedi, the least the man could do was accept it.

Obi-Wan pointedly glanced at the armor gleaming on the other side of the room, “that’s beskar’gam,” which was an understandable thing to point out. Mandalorians were notoriously poor business for brothels.

“Culturally, we see sex as something important, yes. It’s intimate and vulnerable and is therefore treated appropriately. Which would make you feel better about this? Me explaining that I feel grateful to you for what you did for my son, so I’m more than willing to help you with this?” Obi-Wan grimaced at the idea that this was out of a feeling of gratitude or debt, “or that I have a code of honor, despite what some may think, and that I see no reason against helping a vulnerable omega through heat when he doesn’t have any better options,” Jango continued, shifting closer so that there was scarcely an inch between them. He could smell Obi-Wan’s pheromones tick up in response to an alpha’s proximity. The force tricks Obi-Wan had been using weren’t able to keep the heat at bay anymore.

“I… You’re making it very hard for me to think of an argument, you realize?” Obi-Wan slurred out, a tense undercurrent to his words, like he was still trying to hold off the heat.

“I think, actually, that the heat is getting to your brain so you can’t think well enough to realize that I’m right,” Jango replied, tone almost authoritative. He noted some fight leaving Obi-Wan’s posture at the tone, the natural submission.

His actual, normal personality, most likely. The idea of natural submissive personalities being determined by alignments had been chased out of academia into the holosmut industry long ago. Still, Jango could work with that easily.

“You should make your nest, now,” Jango said, keeping the slight ordering tone, noting how Obi-Wan had to close his eyes even as he leaned just a little closer, “I’m going to go explain to Boba a bit about what’s about to happen, make sure he understands and will be fine for a bit. Can you be good and make the nest while I do that?” The last bit was a bit of a gamble, with how little actual evidence he had on Obi-Wan’s seeming submissiveness.

He knew the gamble paid off when Obi-Wan keened, the man’s eyes flying open as his hand moved to cover his mouth in embarrassment, but then Obi-Wan just nodded as he blushed again. Jango smiled and gave a small nod of affirmation before turning and leaving the room.

* * *

It took Jango almost five minutes to give Boba a comprehensive but still age-appropriate explanation of what was happening and what he was going to do to help Obi-Wan, what that meant for Boba as a five-year-old who wouldn’t have direct adult supervision for hours at a time for the next few days. But Boba was a smart, capable, Mandalorian child, Jango was confident that he’d be able to manage himself just fine.

He returned to his room to see that Obi-Wan had followed directions, a modest nest made on his bed, the omega laying down, fetal position, in the middle of it. Jango had to take a deep breath in to ground himself at the sight. This omega was still a Jedi, and he was still a former-Mand’alor-turned-bounty-hunter. He would do well to not indulge in or enjoy this too much, even if he was going to help this omega through heat.

He approached the nest and Obi-Wan looked up at him, still flushed, eyes glassy, breathing heavily. Clearly already in the thrall of the heat. Finally.

“This looks nice and comfy, good job,” Jango said, reaching down and gently petting the man’s hair.

Obi-Wan responded by whining and pushing up into the hand, seeking more contact.

“Do you like that? Praise and affection?” Jango asked. Obi-Wan automatically shrunk away from the contact at the question, even as Jango sat on the edge of the bed and started kicking off his shoes next to Obi-Wan’s.

“Sorry, it’s been a while, I didn’t realize I’d still be so… needy,” Obi-Wan said, although it took Jango a few seconds to make sense of the slurred words to understand what the omega had said. Once he did, he couldn’t help but think it was a good thing he’d found his son before Obi-Wan could be too bad of an influence on him. That was a truly pitiable mindset, or it would be if it wasn’t frustrating Jango so much at the moment.

“Don’t see how that’s a problem,” Jango said, moving to be over Obi-Wan now that his shoes and socks were off, the man turned and propped himself back up on his elbows, looking like he was going to argue back. So Jango continued, “lets me know exactly what to do with you,” he leaned down to kiss the man beneath him, just to make sure he wouldn’t try to start arguing again, “how to help you,” Obi-Wan’s lips were slightly chapped and Jango remembered Boba implying that Obi-Wan had given the child some of his supplies, he should use the heat to make the man get his health all the way back up, probably, “and you’re going to let me, right? Be nice and good and let me get you through this heat? Think you can you do that?” Jango asked, propping himself back to look at the omega, who seemed even more glassy-eyed now.

Maybe the heat was finally taking over enough that the man would stop arguing and give in to his instincts.

He reached a hand out and lightly massaged the mating gland, hard and inflamed already, Obi-Wan was very lucky the smugglers hadn’t noticed his condition. Obi-Wan responded to the stimulus by whining and baring his neck fully. Definitely finally overtaken by the heat.

Jango kissed the other side of the omega’s neck as he started working open the man’s tunic. That got him another whine and a squirming omega, who seemed to be trying to get out of his clothes, but it was hard to tell given how inefficient the movement was at keeping his clothes on or taking them off.

Obi-Wan continued to squirm and let out a few more whines as Jango got rid of the rest of his clothes as well, including the leggings and underwear, already stained with slick. Now Jango was pretty sure the smugglers were just stupid, if Obi-Wan was like this within an hour of him first boarding the other ship. Or maybe it was a weird timeline from having an implant in or from Obi-Wan’s force tricks. The why didn’t matter to Jango, in the end, if Obi-Wan was already producing this much slick, that just made it easier for the both of them.

He probably wasn’t even going to need lube. He’d thought it would be needed for at least the first round, as was common, but this heat seemed to be coming far too intensely for that.

He tested the theory with a finger, which went in easily, then a second, which went in just as easily. Obi-Wan whined and tried to thrust further onto them. Jango pulled his fingers out, which made Obi-Wan keen, and started to remove the rest of his clothes.

“Hey, hey,” he said, stopping to pet Obi-Wan’s sides when the omega started trying to contort enough that he could finger himself, “you’re doing good, just stay nice and still, I’ll give you what your body wants, okay?”

Obi-Wan whined again, but stopped and straightened back out, and Jango was mildly impressed that he still understood basic, “there you go, good omega. You’re doing well,” he continued, which calmed Obi-Wan down a bit more.

Jango quickly finished undressing himself, then leaned back down to reward Obi-Wan, kissing the omega and grinding their hips together.

Obi-Wan moaned into the kiss.

Jango had thankfully already been almost completely hard from all the pheromones Obi-Wan had been releasing, as well as the ideas and sights of an omega under him, ready to share a heat.

He moved down a bit to position Obi-Wan’s hips and start to slide in. The omega stayed under him, pliant and compliant, little eager hitches of breath coming out as he tried to stay still for Jango.

It was a good thing that the hormone dampener prevented a sympathetic rut, otherwise things would have probably already been out of control. Jango had always liked being listened to.

* * *

This first round was messy and rushed to Jango. Awkward from Obi-Wan’s general incoherence and their unfamiliarity. Too quick from desperate arousal on both of their parts.

The second round was a lot closer to what the holosmut industry tried to replicate. Obi-Wan whined and rocked his hips back against Jango’s at a pleasing pace until Jango came in him again. He carefully pulled out as soon as Obi-Wan’s orgasm started so they wouldn’t be locked together. That finally seemed to take the edge off of the heat enough for Obi-Wan’s first drop.

Jango hugged him from behind and held them close together. The more contact, the longer they had until the heat demanded another round. It would probably be another two or three rounds before he could go get them food and drinks. He should probably get a supply and bring it into the room. Water and any electrolyte beverages he had. Fruits, which would have sugar and water. He had a supply of snacks and ready-made things, but he couldn’t quite remember all of them at the moment.

“Kit,” Obi-Wan whined, breaking Jango out of his internal list-making.

He hummed in question. A bit shocked that Obi-Wan was already forming words, but more confused by what Obi-Wan meant.

“Kit. Worried,” Obi-Wan said. Which explained very little to Jango, but he was, thankfully for Obi-Wan, very smart.

“Boba’s fine. You don’t need to worry,” he said, stroking Obi-Wan’s hair when the man seemed ready to try to bolt out of the nest, “just take care of yourself.”

Obi-Wan whined again, sounding more distressed, and shook his head, dislodging Jango’s hand, “No – kit – worried,” he repeated, trying to squirm out of Jango’s hold. He also kept looking to the side of the door, Jango noticed. That could imply something a bit different.

Jango made sure to throw a blanket over them before calling out, “Boba?”

The door opened a moment later to reveal Boba standing there, body language clearly tense. Boba, the kit to Obi-Wan, was worried.

“Is he okay now?” Boba asked. His buir sighed at that.

“He will be, I told you this would take a few days, but he is getting better and he certainly shouldn’t get worse again,” Jango replied, lifting a hand up to rub his forehead. Obi-Wan took the momentary lapse in his warm prison to reach out towards Boba, whining when Jango quickly grabbed him by the waist and pulled him back again.

Jango looked back up from the troublesome omega to see that Boba still looked a bit tense, unsure and worried. Kriffin’ jetii and their force made everything so difficult.

“Do you want to check on him yourself?” Jango asked, more directing the question at Boba, although it was also for Obi-Wan in some ways, presuming the man could still understand basic.

Boba nodded, eager, wanting to make sure Obi-Wan was actually going to be okay, he knew that his buir never lied to him, even if he didn’t always say everything, but he just couldn’t convince himself on his buir’s words alone this time. He approached, both cautious and impatient, and saw that Obi-Wan was still red, his eyes looked funny, and his mouth was hanging open a little bit. He looked so different from the man that had taken care of him for the past two weeks.

He was also looking up at Boba and kept eye contact as he reached up and petted Boba’s hair, finger-combing it a bit, and cooed at him.

And Boba didn’t need that, he was already five! Already a big boy, even if he still had a bit of growing to do. Even though the attention did feel nice to him.

His eyes closed reflexively to appreciate the sensation regardless, so he yelped in surprise when he felt arms wrap around him and drag him onto the bed.

He opened his eyes to find that he was, as the arms and the warmth at his back and the soft blanket would indicate, indeed being cuddled by Obi-Wan.

He managed to turn around so that he could see Obi-Wan and his buir and looked at the latter questioningly as Obi-Wan started combing and cooing again. His buir looked a bit confused but was smiling at them.

Jango watched Boba in turn, noting the boy unintentionally cuddling the omega back. He probably should have expected something like this, Boba was a curious, constantly-thinking, five-year-old. One who had spent two very trying weeks with the other man, so he’d want to know everything about Obi-Wan until he could really calm down and feel safe and Obi-Wan being fevered and in heat wasn’t going to help him with that. And Obi-Wan had obviously, now that he had the proof right in front of him, bonded with Boba enough that his instinct-driven brain had claimed Boba as a kit under his care. The heat would demand a certain type of caretaking for the kit.

There wasn’t really anything wrong with any of that, in Jango’s view, but it was another unplanned thing after two weeks of unplanned things, even if it wasn’t as awful as most of the other stuff he and Boba had gone through, he thought he could make this work.

He’d at least take advantage of Obi-Wan being distracted.

“Can you keep him here, Bob’ika? I need to get some food and water for us,” Jango explained, “you just need to keep distracting him. He can’t really take care of himself right now, okay?” Boba looked up at him for a moment, processing, before he nodded and cuddled back into Obi-Wan, clearly enjoying Obi-Wan’s method of caretaking already.

Jango got up and slid out of bed, not caring about his nudity, even if was Boba around, he had seen Jango naked plenty of times, but he did pause at Obi-Wan tensing a bit at his movement, watching him warily. He paused and considered the man for a moment before leaning down.

“Take care of the kit? I’m going to get food for us. Can you be good and take of him?” Jango asked, stroking Boba’s hair to emphasize the child’s presence. Obi-Wan seemed to understand the intent enough, at least, relaxing and cuddling Boba closer in response. Jango nodded and left, slipping on a pair of pants on the way out.

* * *

Jango came back into his room to see an omega and his kit lightly dozing on a nest made of his blankets and pillows, carrying a few containers of fruit and bantha trail mix and two canteens of water, and had to stop at the sight.

Pheromones. The tugging in his heart, the satisfied purr curling in his chest, had to be pheromones.

Jango Fett was a bounty hunter and Jedi-killer. He didn’t do domestic or soft. He raised his son, hated Jedi, and took contracts. There was no room for softness, especially towards a jedi.

He was also, despite how much he sometimes tried to ignore it, Mandalorian enough to have once been named mand’alor by his people. Most of whom aspired to make this sort of scene a fixture of their lives. No matter how much he said he had given up that life, Jango still valued it.

He kneeled next to the bed, putting the supplies beside them. Obi-Wan opened his eyes at the new sounds, or perhaps the slight shifting of the bed where Jango rested his elbows on it.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jango asked softly, Boba still hadn’t woken up.

Obi-Wan just stared at him and blinked for a moment before cocking his head slightly and making a questioning noise, not unlike a tooka. He was past the point of understanding actual words, even when the heat wasn’t pitching, now.

Jango sighed and tried petting the man’s hair again, giving up on actual communication for the next few days, in all likeliness. Obi-Wan beamed up at him at the physical affection, sickeningly bright.

“I did bring food and water. We’re going to need it,” Jango said, lifting up a canteen and a container of fruit to make sure Obi-Wan understood.

Obi-Wan nuzzled the back of Boba’s head, waking up the young child from his nap.

They all ate on the blanket, Obi-Wan still under the covers, trying to feed Boba, who took turns with Jango to make sure that Obi-Wan actually ate and rehydrated. Jango found it almost endearing how determined the man was to take care of Boba.

Obi-Wan started getting twitchy again, and Jango sent Boba away to start catching up on his homework, and put the now food covered blanket through the laundry. Obi-Wan whined when Boba left, but was quickly and easily distracted by Jango kissing him.

“You’re doing good, okay? Taking care of the kit and being a good omega,” Jango said, petting Obi-Wan’s side again, “Can you keep being good for me? Under me? Take what I give you like a good omega?” Obi-Wan seemed to understand the intent of what he was saying, at least, if the way he keened and let Jango roll him over onto his stomach was any indication.

He so easily responded to Jango’s hands, raising his hips up and waiting for Jango to start, little whines were the only thing betraying the omega’s impatience and desperation.

* * *

Jango took him three times before the heat calmed down again, Obi-Wan beautifully compliant for all of them, responding to most of Jango’s experiments with pleased moans and whines, and Jango would definitely make sure to take advantage of that spot on the other man’s ears for the rest of the heat.

Obi-Wan did, however, keen quite pitiably when Jango tried to pull out after the last round, so Jango pushed back in all the way before throwing a blanket over them.

He called Boba back in and the child came within seconds, obviously waiting again, with a freshly laundered blanket and another canteen of water. He dashed across the room and hurried back onto the bed, barely pausing to grab some of the fruit from the nightstand, before cuddling back into the nest with them.

He could feel some of his semen leak out of Obi-Wan, around his cock, even as Obi-Wan cooed at Boba and started trying to feed him again. Boba let him, the two clearly affectionate towards each other.

Jango distantly wondered how hard is was to kill the Jedi out of a person and leave the rest of them, before letting the thought drift to the back of his mind.


	5. 6 - Slavery & Free-Use ClonesObi/212thObi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consent level: Non-con. Complete and utter non-con before, during, and after the fic.
> 
> After a slightly different Zygerria AU, Rex tells Cody, and therefore the 212th, exactly what Obi-Wan did. Cody and his vode are not going to allow anyone to endanger their Jedi and get away with it. Not even the Jedi himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also technically set in the same universe as my gunpoint story from Whumptober. Feel free to read that first or just hop on in. Unlike Obi-Wan, you have a choice for that:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/20879057/chapters/49711304

Obi-Wan cut himself off as the wave of outrage hit him. He and Anakin both startled at the emotion and looked around the hangar.

Rex was talking to Cody, who had his arms crossed and fingers tapping on his bicep armor, helmet tilted at the particular angle that meant the man was boiling underneath, no matter how much control over his tone and words he had.

“Well, good luck with that,” Anakin said, patting him sympathetically on the shoulder. Obi-Wan made a displeased noise as his former padawan moved to the last transport ship that was going to take him and the last few of the 501st off the Negotiator and back to the Resolute, leaving Obi-Wan to deal with his commander on his own.

He moved over to stand next to Cody, who finished typing something out on his wrist unit, as they all piled on, and waved to Ahsoka, who beamed at him and waved back, as she piloted the ship out of the hangar. The young girl had been upset at being left behind to run the 501st with Appo, instead of helping to find the togrutan colonists, but it had all worked out in the end. Considering the hiccups this mission had, Obi-Wan was especially grateful that they had left her behind.

Zygerria, despite what the Chancellor and the senate might have thought, really hadn’t been the place to send a young girl, war commander and Jedi padawan or not.

He glanced aside to see Cody looking him up and down, a slight impression of judgement in the air. Obi-Wan could imagine the eyebrows.

“I wasn’t exactly in a position to request extra robes, commander,” Obi-Wan said, unable to help the sass. A spike of anger was released into the force. Cody wasn’t taking this well, then.

“Although you have apparently had the time to give your council a preliminary report and get a basic checkup from the medics, as well as bully them into only giving you a basic checkup,” Cody sassed back, “surely there was time to get something else to wear, if you wanted to, sir.”

Obi-Wan looked down at the outfit the queen had put him in yesterday. Only arguably clothes, more accurately described as a complex system of jewelry that was sometimes connected with or attached to sheer strips of fabric. It had been a bit chilly to wear it on the Negotiator, but he’d been too busy to make an excuse to go back to his rooms and asking the medics for a gown seemed like a good way to get stuck in the medbay.

Cody sighed at his lack of response before grabbing the back of his neck, above his top choker, and directing him to turn down a hallway.

“Cody?” he asked, moving with the man but unsure what was going on. Especially given the maelstrom of emotions that had now come back full force in his commander – anger, displeasure, worry, a particularly potent mixture of determination and aggression.

“I am aware that you ended up in a position where what you wore was not your choice. I have also been made aware that you chose to end up in that position,” Cody hissed. Which while technically true…

“That is a very reductive way of describing the situation, Cody. I did what had to be done to complete the mission, including taking risks,” Obi-Wan argued back, still following along to wherever Cody was leading him to. Hopefully somewhere private, neither of them liked to argue in front of the others, it was bad for morale.

Disagree on and debate battle plans? Sure. It was a good thing to give the other vode examples of how a proper working relationship looked, how to actually discuss things instead of just following orders. But when Cody and Obi-Wan actually argued, as he suspected they were about to, they tried to keep it discreet.

“Rex and Skywalker were also there to take risks. You took unnecessary risks because you refused to rely on them,” Cody said. They started coming up towards a rec room that Obi-Wan could feel a number of vode in. Obi-Wan stopped and tugged his neck out of Cody’s grip.

The man let him with only a little resistance, stopping and facing Obi-Wan, leaving space between them in case anyone else needed to pass through.

“I did what had to be done Cody. That… had consequences, certainly, but it was me or Anakin or Rex. Not to mention all of the colonists who were at risk no matter what _we_ risked,” Obi-Wan said. Why was Cody making such a big issue out of this?

Certainly, this hadn’t been the smoothest mission, but it wasn’t like he’d done anything particularly worse than what Cody had seen before. The context had been new, of course, but the extra distress was what he expected from Anakin, not Cody or any of the vode.

“Except you took all the risk, sir. You endangered yourself, made yourself a high-risk target, instead of sharing the risk between all of you so no one was really in more danger than… a broken bone or something,” Cody said, voice filled with frustrated anger.

“Cody, it wasn’t that bad, or that big-” Obi-Wan began.

“You were the queen’s personal slave for two weeks, Obi-Wan!” Cody seethed, grabbing Obi-Wan’s wrist, tighter than his neck, and pulling him down the hallway again.

“You’re our Jedi. And you made the 212th’s Jedi a slave queen’s new _pet_ ,” Cody spat out the word as he pulled Obi-Wan into the rec room, where a number of vode were startled by their sudden appearance, having been hanging around… training mats?

Was Cody going to insist on a spar? To either let out aggression or prove to Obi-Wan that he was too vulnerable and at risk during the mission? Maybe both? But no, they could have done that in the actual training rooms, and they wouldn’t have doubled up the mats, especially so haphazardly, especially not with the random blankets and pillows.

It actually looked like…

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said, cautious and uneasy as Cody continued pulling him to the middle of the mats.

“We don’t let anyone harm our Jedi and get away with it. You know that,” Cody continued, heedless of Obi-Wan’s implied concern. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but shiver at the implication, especially knowing the ways that train of thought had been acted out before.

“The queen and other Zygerrian officials have been-”

“Including you,” Cody said, voice hard as he swung Obi-Wan around so he was back in front of Cody, then grabbed his shoulders firmly, holding him in place.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to continue the argument when the warning finally blared through the force, loud and urgent and forceful. But it was too late, because why would he have been concerned about one of his men approaching him, even from behind?

He barely registered Waxer’s presence before two more bracelets snapped on above the other ones and the force was completely muffled.

He tried to turn around to ask Waxer what he thought he was doing, but Cody wouldn’t let him. Instead, Waxer, presumably, crossed Obi-Wan’s arms behind him and he felt the bracelets magnetize together, locking them behind his back.

“Thank you, Waxer,” Cody said, sounding almost pleased. Obi-Wan stopped trying to turn around and looked back at the man.

“Cody! What-” Obi-Wan cut himself off as Boil walked into view with an unfortunately now familiar chest carried in his hands, “That’s supposed to be cataloged in evidence,” he said, voice hollow, unable to tear his gaze away until Cody started moving towards it.

He watched Cody, transfixed, even as the hands behind him – were there more now? – forced him down onto his knees. And he couldn’t deny how soft and padded the mats were now, especially with the pillows and blankets they’d requisitioned from somewhere.

Cody grabbed something from inside the chest – a pleasure kit, as the Zygerrians called it, not that he liked it when they used anything from it – and started walking back towards him. Whatever Cody had grabbed was thin, Obi-Wan couldn’t make out what it was where it hung at Cody’s side.

“We have a few sets, and we really only need them for judicial demonstration and propaganda purposes. We can spare one for this,” Cody said as he approached, voice darkly satisfied and firm.

“This? Cody, please,” Obi-Wan said, pleading. He was still very confused, but everything he could guess was going on made him a bit desperate, “I understand that you’re upset, but we do not need-” Obi-Wan found himself cut off by Cody squatting down to his level and shoving whatever “toy” he’d grabbed into Obi-Wan’s mouth.

He tried to struggle against it but a pair of hands forced his head still as another held him kneeling by the shoulders and made him unable to stop Cody from manipulating the object into place and pulling the straps along the side of his head to secure behind him.

Obi-Wan froze, only daring to confirm with a few quick flicks of his tongue that Cody had indeed forced him into an O-ring gag. Probably ostentatiously gold-plated like everything else related to Zygerria he seemed to keep running into, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think a little hysterically.

The straps tightened until there wasn’t enough slack for him to try to manipulate the gag, and then he felt the back get secured. He knew it wasn’t a hard lock, but a relatively intricate configuration between the two straps and covers that made the gag all but impossible to remove without being able to see it, let alone without any use of hands.

He tried to force his eyes to dry up as he felt them start to water.

Cody grabbed his chin and almost idly moved his thumb into Obi-Wan’s mouth as he inspected the new restraint. Obi-Wan reflexively swirled his tongue around the digit before quickly correcting his mistake, forcing his tongue down and to still. He felt himself blush at his response.

Cody moved his hand from Obi-Wan’s chin down to some of the bits of fabric connecting from one of the heavy necklaces to the decorative bands around his stomach, “We don’t let anyone harm our Jedi and get away with it,” Cody growled.

“You made yourself, our Jedi,” Cody said, moving his hand down to the scraps of fabric that could only generously be called a combination of a loincloth and pants. The white had been a status symbol, since few could afford to keep slaves in pure, clean white, and the orange had been intended to emphasize his hair color. Now it seemed more to make him look like the 212th’s property. The thought made Obi-Wan shiver as Cody continued, “the Zygerrian queen’s pleasure slave for two weeks. This is due punishment, Obi-Wan.”

Wouldn’t this count as hurting him, though? He’d known the vode didn’t always have the best sense of morality or ethics from their upbringing, and he’d seen the consequences of it combining with their protectiveness, but…

Kriff, how had he let things get this far, that his men would do this, without realizing? He should have considered it too far long ago, when they started being willing to use violence off the battlefield.

He whined through the gag, unable to do much of anything else. Cody held eye contact as he stood up.

“Two weeks of danger. A day of punishment for each. If you think that letting yourself become a queen’s pleasure slave on Zygerria for two weeks isn’t a big risk or issue, surely you can’t think being one for two days on your own ship for your own men is any risk at all,” Cody said, anger lacing his sarcasm.

Obi-Wan flinched at the confirmation of what his men were about to do to him.

Cody held eye contact for a few more seconds before nodding, apparently satisfied with Obi-Wan’s silence and obedience, not that he hadn’t ensured it by force already, and walked over to Boil, who was still holding the pleasure kit.

Obi-Wan’s focus was drawn from the two when one of his men stepped in front of him, completely nude. He tried to back away, but just pushed himself further into the hands still holding him in position, which were able to readjust to hold him even firmer with his move. He felt his eyes start to water again as he looked up to see Longshot, distinctive chest tattoo and haircut identifying the man without the force, with an eager expression on his face.

“Don’t worry general, we don’t want to hurt you either, so this punishment should be just enough that you won’t do this sort of osik again,” he said, a calm veneer over a more excited tone. It was like Longshot thought of this the same way as Obi-Wan did when he tried something creative to cajole unruly students into behaving and doing their coursework, instead of trying to make him calm down about the fact that his men were about to rape him for two days.

Cody walked by in his peripheral vision towards the exit and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but stare at him leave, wide-eyed, “I’ll be back after I check in with Wooley and make sure everyone knows where to come,” the man said, casually throwing a small wave over his shoulder as he exited and turned down the hallway. Obi-Wan felt the first few tears start to slip down his cheeks.

His eyes were torn back to Longshot as he felt something enter his mouth. He looked to see that the man had closed the distance between them and his vision was almost completely overtaken by Longshot’s stomach.

Longshot pushed his cock, already half hard, further into Obi-Wan’s mouth. Obi-Wan felt it intrude until Longshot’s balls hit his beard, his nose just brushing the spot below the man’s navel, the cock partially blocking his airways, making it harder to breathe.

He couldn’t help but whine at that. The undeniable proof that he was going to be used like this again. By his own men this time, when he wasn’t even technically on a mission or undercover.

Longshot swore at the sensation of Obi-Wan’s muffled vocalization, jerking his hips a little in arousal. Obi-Wan reflexively licked along the bottom of his cock. He’d given blowjobs even before this mission, and then the queen had started training him, somewhat pleased by not having a completely inexperienced slave. Obi-Wan had conceded in some of the training to make the sessions end quicker. He hadn’t had time to figure out how much he’d need to untrain himself and this was not going to help.

“Kriff, general, that’s good. Do that again?” It was an order, even if it sounded like a request, but Obi-Wan hesitated, “The point is for you to pleasure us, right? I enjoyed that, why don’t you do it again?” Longshot continued, thrusting his cock in and out of Obi-Wan’s mouth lightly, making sure that at least half of it always stayed in.

Obi-Wan had to fight another automatic response at the request, because he had spent so much time trying to get his men to believe they could have wants, desires, enjoy life - and then doing what little he could to facilitate that - that his immediate reaction to one of them wanting him to do something they enjoyed was apparently to just do it.

But this wasn’t something he wanted to do, chose to do, even if he also wanted to please his men at the same time.

It felt bitterly ironic that this thing he could do directly for them for once, which his men wanted him to do, was the first thing they wanted that he didn’t.

But, as he was reminded by Longshot’s continued thrusting, which was getting progressively harder and heavier, it wasn’t like he had a choice this time.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, feeling a few more tears slip out, and put his tongue to work.


	6. 7 - Sharing Fantasies QuinObi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consent level: consensual and even healthy! A few fantasies of non-con, but no actual action of that nature is taken
> 
> Quinlan and Obi-Wan are having a rare night off. Even rarer, they get to spend it together. Despite their initial plans, and even actions, they find that a lot of what they want to do is actually just relax. This doesn't mean they can't also turn each other on while their bodies finally take the break they've been demanding for months.

Obi-Wan snuggled closer to Quinlan, appreciating the softness and warmth that came from cuddling with another in an actual bed with a decently soft blanket and no armor in a three-meter radius. It had been far too long since he and Quin had gotten to do this.

But for once they were both on leave at the same time on Coruscant. Actual leave at that, no one was stuck in a bacta tank this time.

They’d done a round in living room, then another in the fresher, then gotten to Quin’s actual bed and just… cuddled. Kissed and caressed and relaxed to the point where all their bodies seemed to want to do was rest, so they’d put off their plans for actual fucking until… well, probably the morning, quite honestly.

“This is nice,” Quin said, “Can we not leave this bed for like… ten more years?”

“If by year you mean hour? Then maybe,” Obi-Wan said, both of their voices were soft and quiet, a welcome release to speeches or yelling commands on the battlefield.

Quinlan snorted, “If you weren’t a councilor, then maybe it would be more of a guarantee. Would have thought, you get more perks from being that high up. Only perk seems to be longer turbolift rides and sleep deprivation training,” Quinlan murmured.

“Why do you think we have such long turbolift rides? Sometimes it feels like I can fit a whole half-hour nap in,” Obi-Wan mumbled back.

“Still. Can’t believe we haven’t fucked in the council chamber yet,” Quin replied. Obi-Wan barked out a startled laugh at that.

“Oh? And presuming we manage to catch the one evening where there aren’t any emergency meetings, how were you planning on fucking me?” Obi-Wan replied, playing along.

Quinlan hummed before falling quiet, thinking.

“When I first heard that you’d been made a member, I thought I’d like to fuck you on the floor. In the middle of the pattern, make you look either at the chairs and skyline or at the door, so that you knew that the first thing anyone would see if they intruded would be your face, lost in lust as you let me defile you,” Quinlan said. Obi-Wan shivered, knowing doing that sort of thing would make him more excited, especially with how good Quin was at dirty talk.

“Then I actually reported to the council while you were sitting in those ridiculous chairs, and I thought it would be quite lovely to fuck you while you were in yours. Pin you down, maybe even get cuffs and restrain you to it, tie you down on it, whatever. Not let you leave while I had my way with you. Leave an impression so you couldn’t sit in that chair for a single meeting and not think of me fucking you on it,” Quin continued, and that did sound like a much more potent idea, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but groan at the thought.

“I thought about you tying me down, in a fashion. On the Scorp-Ion, after Titavian IV,” Obi-Wan admitted. Quin looked at him curiously.

“After fighting you so many times while you were playing double agent and then…”Obi-Wan didn’t really want to go too far down what Vos had done during that time, “well I thought that there was still a chance you really had switched allegiances. I trusted you despite that, but it was a possibility. And you had me on your ship, and I had no idea what sort of modifications you might have had in it, and I’d seen you wield the dark side so powerfully for months beforehand, you could have done nearly anything to me and I don’t think I’d have been able to stop it,” Obi-Wan said, and the thought even now had his face heating up.

“And what, exactly, did you think I might do to you if I had lied to you and had actually had you captured on my ship?” Quinlan asked, voice slipping into a low growl that he only ever used to drive Obi-Wan crazy. Obi-Wan felt his breath hitch at the tone.

“Tie me onto the copilot’s chair, maybe gag me, make me immobile and do whatever you want while I sat there, helpless to watch. Whether it was to continue spy or separatist business or to do something to me. Chain me into some torture device and leave me hanging, yours to ignore or play with at your whim. Maybe lull me into a false sense of security so that I went to sleep and then woke up chained to your bunk, so you could taunt me by saying I clearly wanted it, falling asleep in the enemy’s bed. Not let me see the flight plans, then take me to some moon and let me go, only to hunt me down,” Obi-Wan said, finally looking back at Quinlan, who was staring at him, face a bit conflicted despite his arousal-dilated pupils.

“I thought of all these things, as well as less pleasant versions of them, and I still think of them sometimes. You, of course, did none of them, probably didn’t even think of most of them,” Obi-Wan continued.

Quin relaxed a bit at that, before carefully moving his hand to stroke gently across Obi-Wan’s chest, caressing.

“I didn’t. But I don’t think I’ll be able to stop thinking about them now,” he began, “After the war…” Quin chewed his lip for a moment, because every day that seemed like a more and more hypothetical thing, “I think I might just try one or two of those. We could take a sabbatical together, find a moon. We could make a game out of it. I’ll chase you and hunt you down and fuck you under the stars.”

Obi-Wan moaned at the thought, feeling himself go almost boneless at the desire in Quin’s voice.

Then, he carefully rolled over so he was half on top of Quin, and drew the other into a long, slow, lazy kiss. Quinlan returned the favor as he kissed back, bringing a hand up and slowly stroking Obi-Wan’s back.

Slow and lazy had never been their style, especially together, but Obi-Wan thought tonight they could try indulging in a little experimentation, especially if they were just going to turn each other on regardless of how tired they were.


	7. 8 - Bonus Free Day JangoObiMaul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consent level: very good. Their life choices, on the other hand? debatable
> 
> Jango decides the best way to fulfill his CIS bounty is to track the Zabrak that keeps trying to kill Kenobi. Loudly. What he didn't count on was for them to get so caught up in fighting each other that they get all three of them stuck in a mine shaft. Oh well, while they're stuck in their ride back to surface, they might as well have some fun, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropes included... uh... clothed sex? Overstimulation? Rough sex maybe? Teasing? hate sex? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> It's definitely a submissive Obi-Wan, especially by the end, that's for sure!  
> (also, shoutout to planetary_retrograde for letting me borrow a lot from _inopportune bounties_ for the second sex position ;)

Jango sighed and reached over to close the viewport, not needing to hear the additional sounds from the mining shaft when the only view they got was rock, stone, and more minerals. The sound made the man directly in front of him flinch. Or maybe it was the growl of the third occupant in their little cage.

The mining basket was only designed for one person, plus maybe a backpack, not three grown men, so they were all sandwiched together in a row.

This hadn’t been in any of his plans when he started hunting Kenobi, but the other two had been so caught up in their fight that they apparently couldn’t think enough to stop them all from getting trapped in here.

Jango moved his head so he could look around Kenobi at the red and black zabrak he’d tracked, betting on the other was drawing Kenobi to him, “Do you know how long it will take for this to hit the surface?” he asked, tone bored.

The zabrak stopped growling to spare him a glance, glaring for second before answering “about half an hour,” his glare shifted over to Kenobi, “plenty of time to make you bleed, Kenobi,” he snarled. Jango heard him shifting, probably preparing to strike.

“Really, Maul? Couldn’t you let this lie for at least one half-hour?” Kenobi asked, almost rhetorical in his disdain.

“Not to mention, you’re not going to get that much of a duel in here,” Jango added. Maul – as was apparently the Zabrak’s name – had said some things that indicated he was looking for a proper match.

When the man glanced between him and Kenobi before seeming to relax a bit, growl lowering in volume, Jango couldn’t help but wonder why Kenobi didn’t try to leverage that himself.

“Why _are_ you here?” Kenobi asked, twisting his neck so he could look at Jango somewhat.

“Why don’t you guess,” Jango offered. Kenobi hummed, thinking for a moment.

“All right, is the bounty on me or him?” Kenobi asked, tilting his head at Maul.

“You,” Jango answered honestly. When Maul looked at him appraisingly he added, “alive.”

Maul tsked before growling again, body tensing as he became highly irate again.

“Why do you want him dead so badly?” Jango asked Maul, “Not that I don’t understand the impulse, he is quite annoying. You seem much more enthusiastic about it than even Ventress does, is all. Have you tried ignoring him to see if he’ll go away?” he continued, leaning forward a bit so that his chin was basically resting on Kenobi’s shoulder. Kenobi didn’t move, apparently not wanting to lean towards Maul more than he wanted to get away from Jango, even as he tensed and scoffed. Good to know.

Maul fixed him with a glare that made his earlier one look like it belonged on a tooka plush before opening his mouth. He looked like he was about to yell, but then apparently thought better of it, letting it close partially before speaking at a normal volume, “I have hated him since he defeated me, all those years ago. I have sworn vengeance. And no weak Jedi or hunter with a few flashy tricks will be getting in my way,” he declared.

“Just that? He’s beaten a lot of people in fights. Hells, look at Grevieous. Or Dooku. Most members of the bounty hunters’ guild have more defeats under their belt. You don’t see them threatening to destroy planetary resources. And they have much worse track records than you,” Jango commented.

“Do you always talk so much?” Maul snarled.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Jango glared at Kenobi, not that the man could see it through the helmet, “you’re a special case, Kenobi. You’re annoying enough that I talk in the hopes of not having to listen to you as much,” Jango explained, poking Kenobi in the cheek.

Obi-Wan huffed and adjusted until he could swat Jango’s hand away, trapped by Jango’s helmet on the other side of his face. Maul was looking at him appraisingly again.

“True, he is quite infuriating in personality, as well as actions. I can see why others wish to fight him as well. But he defeated me many years ago, and I have since been forced to live without purpose because of that. My master cast me out at such a failure,” Maul said, like he was resigned to an earned eternity in hell, instead of apparently just being fired.

“First, I bisected you. I thought you were dead and your Sith master probably did too. Second, if he casts you out for losing one fight then I’m not sure it wasn’t a good thing if it got you away from them. Third, following that, since I beat you and your master washed their hands of you, you’ve gotten your limbs regrown, not lost anymore, gained a brother and a mother of sorts, and the only fights I’m aware of that you’ve been in are ones you picked,” Kenobi said, disdain clear in his voice. Jango was no longer certain it wasn’t warranted.

“And yet! You, the victor, still sit at the weak Jedi’s feet. The fact that a being so beneath me – at the heel of the Republic, the beck and call of pathetic senate masters, with no grand purpose – defeated me is intolerable,” Maul ranted, almost frenzied.

“So it’s the fact that he’s still a Jedi after beating you that you hate?” Jango asked, unimpressed if that was the case.

“The fact that ever was a Jedi and dared to beat me! Jedi are weak, they make themselves such on purpose. Compared to the glory of the Sith-”

“So if he was another Sith, what would you do?” Jango interrupted. And he thought he had hang-ups about Jetii.

The question seemed to stop Maul’s brain in its tracks, the younger man looking at Jango in shock, before his brow furrowed, confused and hard at thought. Kenobi looked over at him incredulously.

“A Sith master would not have been that weak,” Maul finally said, sounding vaguely offended.

“Most force users who have finished their training are stronger than a padawan, Maul,” Kenobi said, rolling his eyes. Maul growled back at him.

“I suppose I would have relished, after I recovered, in fighting against him,” Maul said, contemplative, “Or perhaps I would have approached him to take down my master, as is the way of the Sith,” he continued, putting his appraising gaze on Kenobi for once.

Kenobi startled, looking confused and offended.

“As much as we’d all like to kill the Sith master helping orchestrate this war,” Kenobi said, and that piece of information certainly helped explain some things Jango had noticed while working for the Separatists, “I’m not exactly in the mood to abandon all I’ve known and my beliefs to get myself killed on the dark side with you.”

Kenobi certainly knew how to make an art out of eyerolls, Jango would give him that.

“So you’re more upset that the duel freed you and Kenobi continued to be a Jedi, than that your master abandoned you for being beaten by Kenobi,” Jango conjectured. Maul certainly hadn’t disagreed with Kenobi’s description of the situation, including his improvement since he was beaten.

Maul tore his gaze from Obi-Wan to glower at him. It took a few seconds for his glare to shift to confusion, then another contemplative look, before finally settling on a calm, calculating gaze.

“That seems to be accurate. But the fact remains that I would rather kill the Jedi that defeated me, since he will not be joining the glory of the Sith anytime soon,” Maul explained, a bit of disdain finally appearing in his voice as well.

“Or, you could fight him when he gets in your way and appreciate his skills, as well as a few other things,” Jango said, mischievous, as he carefully and purposefully reached down and around to grab Kenobi’s hips.

“Fett,” Kenobi said, voice hard in warning. Not that there was much he could do at the moment. Maul looked down at Jango’s hands, before raising his eyes again to flick his gaze between the two of them.

“I thought people only did that for those they were weak for,” he said, suspicious.

“That can be a reason. Or just for fun. Or to relieve stress. Clear the air. Plenty of reasons,” Jango responded, voice carefully casual.

Maul looked Kenobi up and down, coming back to the spot where Jango had his hands multiple times, expression cautious but interested.

“It should at least get him to make some good faces, maybe even sounds, or maybe even shut up. At least if you can do it well,” Jango said, choosing his words carefully. Sex would at least make this situation a little more fun.

Maul licked his lips in much more obvious interest as he thought that over.

“I am right here, you know,” Kenobi said with a scoff, jerking his shoulders back to try to dislodge Jango’s hands.

“Oh yes, you are,” Jango said, faux surprise used to tease Kenobi, “how convenient. Want to have sex? It’s not like we’ll have anything better to do for a while.”

“No, Jango, I am not going to have sex with a man trying to abduct me and a man trying to kill me. Try again when you’re not on Dooku’s payroll,” Kenobi said, which didn’t actually mean he was opposed to him and Maul themselves, Jango noticed.

“I mean, I only took this job to get away from the jerks at the guild for a few weeks. Boba could always pretend he’s sick again. Dooku knows I tend to destroy things, including people, if I don’t get to leave when that happens,” Jango explained, putting his left hand back on Kenobi’s hip. The man let it stay. Jango looked up meaningfully at Maul.

Maul just shrugged back at them and folded his arms, apparently not going to help his own case.

“Although I’m a bit surprised, Kenobi, that you didn’t jump on the chance as soon as I suggested it. Maul’s been trying to kill for how long? Using how many techniques the Republic finds troublesome? This could be a chance to finally get him to stop causing evacuations by setting towns on fire,” Jango prodded. Maul remained silent, not disagreeing with him.

Kenobi was also silent for a moment before responding, “What do you get out of this, Fett? How is a change of heart going to benefit you now?” Kenobi said. Jango hummed and slowly slid his other hand back onto Kenobi’s hip.

“Like I said, I took this job because I felt trapped with the other hunters. Now I’m trapped with you two. Might as well have fun while I’m stuck here,” Kenobi remained silent, “seriously, between the two of you, this bounty isn’t worth it. I’m going to use this bounty and Boba as an excuse to get away for a while, regardless of what happens until we get to the surface,” Jango continued.

Kenobi was still silent for another long moment.

“Alright,” he finally said. Jango grinned behind his helmet.

Jango slipped his hands down and under Kenobi’s various tops and into his pants to cup his crotch. At least he seemed to only have tight pants and underwear on the bottom.

He looked back up at Maul, “any preferences for what you want?” he asked, starting to massage the soft cock, pleased when Kenobi squirmed a little bit at the stimulation.

Maul shrugged, “If I have any, I don’t particularly know them,” which was as vague and cryptic as all force users seemed to speak.

He and Kenobi both stilled and observed Maul.

“Maul… have you… ever had sex?” Kenobi asked. Maul shrugged again.

“I took care of my own needs, upon the rare occasion they needed to be taken care of,” Maul said. So at least he knew enough to masturbate. Jango figured that was better than nothing.

“Well, if the way he flirts is any indication, Kenobi should be a good first lay, at least,” Jango said, both sincere and teasing. Kenobi scoffed even as he started blushing. Maul looked suspicious.

Kenobi pulled Jango’s hands out of his pants before exclaiming, “oh just come over he-” and cut himself off as he fisted Maul’s black robes and drew them together.

It took a moment for Maul to return the kiss, then another for them to figure out how to really kiss each other, especially since it seemed like Kenobi had gone straight for tongues.

Maul drew them backwards so that his back was against the basket’s walls, drawing Kenobi into one of the more aggressive embraces that Jango had ever seen, and leaving Jango a bit more space to work as Kenobi started grinding their hips together.

Jango indulged himself by massaging Kenobi’s ass cheeks for a moment, nice and firm for a human, while keeping the fleshy softness that made humans and near-humans preferable to Jango. The move garnered him a nice drawn-out moan from Kenobi.

“The flirting really isn’t an act, is it? You seem ready to jump down anybody’s pants once they’re not an enemy,” Jango teased, sliding his still gloved hands into Kenobi’s underwear.

Maul broke their kiss, panting a bit more than Kenobi.

“Not everyone, just those who seem interesting enough,” the man replied, punctuating his statement with another grind of his hips. Maul ground back this time, apparently finally understanding the point of the friction.

“Oh? Find us interesting, do you?” Jango continued, giving those nice cheeks another squeeze.

“Well, I have been accused of lacking taste several times,” Kenobi sassed back, trying and failing to sound completely unaffected. Jango chuckled at that.

“At least your taste is fun, then,” he replied.

Then he glanced over Kenobi’s shoulder and watched Maul for a moment.

“You might want to try playing with him. Should get his face to look a bit better, at least,” Jango commented. When Maul looked at him confusedly, he clarified, “his cock. Not many can orgasm just from kissing and taking it up the ass.”

He idly brushed a finger between Kenobi’s cheeks, across his hole. Kenobi shuddered before pushing back against him a bit.

“I’m not taking much of anything up the ass, let alone coming from it, without lube,” Kenobi responded before gasping as Maul started stroking his cock.

Jango supposed it was a fair boundary, but he only had an all-purpose, mechanical oil in his belt. Not exactly the best idea.

“Smallest left pocket,” Kenobi said.

Jango took a hand out of Kenobi’s pants and fumbled for the correct pocket, incredulous and bemused when he did indeed pull out a small bottle of lube.

“Anakin tends to lose his in battle, I sneak a new one into an extra obi when he’s not looking,” Kenobi explained.

Jango snorted before freeing his other hand and unscrewing the bottle, taking a moment to glance at the label.

“Pears?” Jango asked, incredulous. Scented lube was usually silly, in his opinion. It seemed more absurd for Kenobi to have pear-scented lube than it did for a Jedi master to have any lube on them at all.

“He thinks it’s romantic, for some reason. He has also never been accused of good taste,” Kenobi said, sounding a bit more put together. And that wouldn’t do, not at all.

“I usually find an angle closer to this,” Jango explained as he casually moved Maul’s arm while the smaller man continued stoking Kenobi’s cock, “works better on partners.”

Maul hummed as he tried the new angle, and Jango’s helmet picked up the sound of Kenobi breathing in a bit more harshly.

“That feel any better, Kenobi? It’s nice that you’re not trying to rush him, but actually reacting will probably teach him a lot better,” Jango commented, putting his speakers right by Kenobi’s ear.

Maul gave Kenobi a good solid stroke down and squeezed a bit at the base, which got him a moan in return. Jango chuckled and pushed Kenobi forward a little, letting the two fall into another make out session while he started lubing up his fingers.

He wondered when the last time Kenobi had taken it up the ass was, how tight he would be. He was in high demand during this war, and he certainly didn’t get any when he was captured.

Then again, war was usually a game of hurry up and wait. It could get quite boring. Had he bedded any of Jango’s clones?

Unlikely, given how much Kenobi liked to talk up ethics and the Jedi code. He probably wouldn’t dare with the chain of command issues. That didn’t mean Jango couldn’t leave enough of an impression that Kenobi wouldn’t be able to look at a clone without thinking of him and taking it up the ass.

Jango smiled at his new, self-inflicted challenge.

He worked one finger in fairly easily, causing Kenobi to groan. He and Maul hadn’t broken their kiss, so it looked like Maul had already figured out how to breathe. He seemed a pretty quick learner.

Given the way Maul was holding onto Kenobi’s tunics, it looked like he’d also learned how to take control fairly quickly.

Jango worked his finger in and out a few times before adding a second on another thrust in, this one going in just as easily as the first. Kenobi moaned, a debauched sound, despite still being muffled.

Maul finally broke the kiss, looking at Kenobi in an almost calculating way, despite the dilated pupils, before attaching himself to the man’s neck to kiss there, making the Jedi groan within seconds.

“Do you like this Kenobi? Held at the front, hands working your ass and cock as you we make you just stand there?” Jango asked.

“Ye-yes,” Kenobi answered, panting. Jango noticed when one of his ministrations had Kenobi sucking in a small breath.

“And how do the gloves feel? Ever had someone stick their gloved hand up your ass?” Jango asked, working that spot even more to sensitize it.

“N-no,” Kenobi replied, stuttering and slurring his words, “very new, feels- feels different,” he sucked in a breath, “feels good,” he said, a bit more cohesively.

Jango narrowed his eyes at that and quickly checked to see what Maul was doing.

Kenobi’s neck was obviously going to have a few bruises, Maul was using too much teeth.

“Pain can be fun, Kenobi certainly seems up for it,” if the way the man had been groaning was any indication, at least, “but it does also tend to ground people,” Jango explained. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for a grounded Kenobi, he could go back to being sassy the next time they fought.

Maul stopped and looked at him questioningly, one hand still holding Kenobi against him as his other hand went back down to Kenobi’s cock.

“People usually groan when they have sex. That would imply that it’s always supposed to be painful,” Maul said, voice blandly curious and casual.

Jango decided to shelve all the implications those two sentences brought about. He suspected that thinking about them would kill any chance of him staying aroused.

“Groans of pleasure are very much a thing. One that happens very frequently when having good sex. Isn’t that right, Kenobi?” Jango prodded, hooking his fingers a little bit to finally press directly on Kenobi’s prostate.

The moan Kenobi let out in response couldn’t have been better if he’d rehearsed it.

“See? Pleasure alone can get some very nice sounds from people. And faces,” Jango said, letting his grin slip into his tone.

He tapped Kenobi’s prostate twice more.

“Dammit, Fett! We’re not going be stuck in here all day. If you’re going to fuck me, just do it already,” Kenobi grit out.

Jango slid his hand out and started messaging Kenobi’s ass again, “Oh? Do you want me to fuck you then? Right here and now?” he teased.

“Oh for-” Kenobi cut himself off with a whine as Maul apparently did something, “Yes! Please! Please just fuck me already!” Kenobi begged, head bowing forward as he gasped and grasped Maul’s robes even tighter. Maul really did learn quickly.

Jango grinned as he removed his hands to unclasp one side of his codpiece, then undid the slit in his bodysuit, before finally pulling out what Kenobi was begging so prettily for.

He quickly covered his cock with a bit more lube, not much, part of the reason he usually spent so long fingering was to lube up his partners anyways.

Kenobi was just tight enough to put a nice amount of pressure and tension on him without being hard to actually slide into, let alone making Jango have to worry about injuring him.

“At least it hasn’t been too long since someone else has been up here,” Jango commented as he slowly finished pushing in, hands back on Kenobi’s hips.

Kenobi scoffed before letting out another moan. Jango decided Maul didn’t need him to keep track of his progress anymore.

“Oh? It has been a while, then? You’re taking me so well, though. Some _thing_ else? Which do you prefer? Toys? Or do you just stick your own fingers up here between battles?” Jango asked, not wanting to resist the chance to tease more. Kenobi blushed at his last question.

“Hmm… Maybe you should try it with a glove on, next time.”

Jango started thrusting in and out, making Kenobi rock with him, and, by extension, Maul.

It took less than a minute for Kenobi to start _keening_ , and Jango knew he’d have to figure out a way to do this again in some fashion just for that noise alone. Especially with the extra thrill that came specifically from him making Kenobi make that noise.

Kenobi came first, dragging Maul into another kiss that did very little to muffle his nice sounds, moans and whines and a few more keens. The sounds plus the sensation of Kenobi clenching down on him was enough to make Jango come half a minute later, spilling into Kenobi.

Maul broke their kiss and Kenobi just stood there, panting quietly, apparently spent.

It had probably been too long since he’d gotten any actual attention, in this sense.

Jango saw Maul shift until he could stick a hand into the folds of his pants, where it remained long enough for Jango to remember that Maul hadn’t come yet. He reached across Kenobi and put his hand on Maul’s arm.

“Not that I’ll stop you if that’s how you want to do it, but don’t you want to try him out?” Jango asked, tilting his head to indicate Kenobi. Maul paused and looked at Kenobi cautiously, tongue flicking out to lick his lips.

“Not that I’m opposed, but turning around in here is rather difficult,” Kenobi said, in a tone that might have been supposed to be a bored drawl, if it hadn’t been so slurred.

“Indeed, never mind kneeling,” Jango commented back, glad that his voice was still put together enough that his helmet made him sound almost normal.

“Still, I’m sure we can make something work that doesn’t involve figuring out turning around,” Jango continued, “Hmm… I think there’s enough room to tilt a bit, but we’d still need a bit more leverage…”

Jango quickly ran through the supplies he had on him before coming up with an idea that brought a truly wicked grin to his face. He pulled out of Kenobi, tucked himself away, and reattached his codpiece before grabbing a pair of his cuffs and shuffling so that he was holding them in front of Kenobi.

“I do think I have a solution, though. If you would be so kind, Kenobi,” he said, sure that the other two could hear the wicked grin on his face as well as feel it in the force.

“I’m not that out of it, Fett,” Kenobi scoffed, voice still a bit slurred.

“Come on, Kenobi, they’re regular cuffs. You’d be able to get yourself out of them, even if I was intending to keep you in them,” which was a very pretty image, but not a thought Jango had the opportunity to explore at the moment.

“I fail to see how this would solve our space problem,” Maul commented, less effected than Kenobi, but more obviously hot and bothered than Jango.

Jango looked up at him, grinning behind his helmet.

“I connect the cuffs to the ceiling, Kenobi gets pushed up and back, tilting him, between the three of us we push his hips forward, tilting him more, then gravity does the rest to give you a nice angle to fuck his hole on,” Jango explained glibly. Jango felt Kenobi’s breath hitch a bit at the idea, excited.

Well, he’d suspected, but it was nice to confirm that Kenobi actually liked getting dominated like this.

Maul didn’t outwardly react much, but Jango could see, barely in the dim light, his pupils dilate a bit more in arousal. He couldn’t blame the younger man, the idea of chaining Kenobi up and having his way with him was a potent one.

“So, Maul, want to try? Not the most usual first fuck, but I think you’d be up for the challenge, if you want,” Jango prodded.

Maul reached a hand out and put it on Kenobi’s hip, possessive, “yes. I think that would be… nice,” Maul said after a moment. The last word was almost hesitant, like Maul was unused to saying it. Jango quickly put that thought away for later as well.

Jango tapped the cuffs against Kenobi’s stomach, “well?”

“Oh, alright, but if it doesn’t work, we stop and figure something else out,” Kenobi said, tsking. Jango finally took time to notice the nice blush covering most of Kenobi’s face and neck. It even reached the top of his ears, cutely enough.

Jango tugged Kenobi’s hands above his head before putting the cuffs on, quite liking the look of Kenobi just holding his hands out and letting Jango restrain him. If only actually capturing him was so easy.

He fiddled with his gauntlets and aimed before quickly sinking a cable into the ceiling a bit behind his head. He cut the line with enough spare length to tie Kenobi up before grabbing the man’s cuffed wrist and pulling him back and up to do just that.

He tugged on the wrists to test the give of the cable and, satisfied, let himself enjoy having Kenobi being forced further back against his chest, unable to move away.

“We probably should have pulled your pants down first,” Jango commented as he wrapped an arm around Kenobi’s waist.

Maul made some motion with his hand before Jango heard fabric moving and looked down to see the Kenobi’s pants had indeed been pulled down the rest of the way to his ankles. Force users.

“That works. So if you just get between his legs,” Jango said as he used his other hand to push Kenobi’s hips forward, causing Maul to almost stumble in between them, effectively trapping Kenobi’s clothes-locked legs around Maul, “we should be able to get a good enough angle for you to fuck him out.”

“Might be easier if you let me keep my feet on the ground,” Kenobi huffed, sounding far too composed again for Jango’s taste.

“Perhaps, or perhaps it just lets us set the pace a bit more. You were making some sounds that sounded nicer than your words earlier, I quite like the idea of you making just those again,” Jango said.

“Those were… more enjoyable than hearing him talking,” Maul said, still a bit uncertain of how he was supposed to talk in this situation. Jango looked up at him, almost wishing he had his helmet off so he could give the younger man a reassuring smile or wink.

Instead, he unwrapped the arm around Kenobi’s waist and grabbed the lube from where he had stashed it on his belt, handing it over to Maul.

Maul lathered his cock with unpracticed movements, and erred on the side of over-lubing, in Jango’s opinions, especially since Kenobi already had gotten quite a bit of lube and semen and experience in him. But Jango wasn’t going to dissuade overly cautious habits for this sort of thing, especially since Maul was a true novice in sex.

Maul handed back the lube before lining himself up and slowly slipping in, hands on Kenobi’s hips.

Kenobi’s leg started twitching and Jango wrapped his arm around the man’s waist again to keep him still. Kenobi let out two small whimpers but continued to try to hold still.

Maul finally pushed all the way in and let out a shuddering breath.

“So I just… move back and forth?” Maul asked, still buried balls deep.

“Yep. Pretty simple. There can be more, but to start you should probably just work on the basic motion. Try out a few different paces. I’m sure he won’t mind, will you, Kenobi?” Jango explained. Kenobi just took a deep breath in.

Jango removed the hand helping to hold up his hips, bringing Kenobi tighter against him with his other arm, and tugged Kenobi’s head up by his hair.

“Well? You don’t mind Maul using you as a tester, do you? You’ll just let him pick whatever pace so long as he fucks you, right?” Jango prodded, letting his voice drop into the sort of tone that affected most people, regardless of if he was threatening or bedding them.

“Yes, please. Your pace, any pace. Please, just fuck me!” Kenobi begged, words already starting to slur again. Jango wondered bemusedly if it was the cock stuffed in him refusing to move or the hair pulling was making him more desperate.

Maul slowly started moving again, keeping what looked like an excruciatingly sedate pace to Jango, before eventually speeding up to the point that Kenobi, and maybe the whole basket, was rocking in a shuddering manner, what with the rigged restraints limiting any stabilization Kenobi might have tried.

Eventually, Maul settled into an impressively consistent, medium pace. An impressive show of athleticism and discipline, if a bit mechanical for sex.

It was enough to keep Kenobi moaning, however. Jango used his free hand to reach around and play with Kenobi’s cock, pleasantly surprised to find it already hard again. Kenobi wasn’t that much younger than him, after all.

“You really are quite eager for us, aren’t you, jeti’ika?” Jango asked, cupping Kenobi’s balls and giving them a pleasurable squeeze.

“Stew- Stewjoni,” Kenobi stuttered out between moans. Which did explain a bit of Kenobi’s… everything.

Jango hummed in response and started lazily stroking Kenobi’s cock, which was rewarded with a few mewls, of all things.

Kenobi was probably the most fun lay he’d have in a while, and the cute sounds just kept making it better.

Maul swore low under his breath as he came, hands spasming a bit in his first visible lapse of control. His last few thrusts were harder, at a slightly different angle, and Jango gave a few firmer strokes of Kenobi’s cock as they seemed to hit his prostate and make him fall apart more. Kenobi came only a few seconds later.

Kenobi went limp, his head rolling back onto Jango’s shoulder, as his orgasm finished, panting. Jango noted how glazed his eyes were, pupils still dilated as large as a tooka’s.

Jango cooed. Poor, defenseless Jedi.

Kenobi didn’t react. The man really was out of it. Jango dropped the teasing attitude.

“So, sex. Thoughts?” Jango asked. Maul was also panting a bit, but obviously coherent, especially compared to Kenobi.

“Better than watching made it seem,” Maul observed. Jango snorted.

“A lot of the galaxy seems to know kriff-all about sex. Anyone tries to tell you that it has to be done a certain way and nothing else is an option is an idiot or a conman,” Jango remarked. Maul seemed to consider this before nodding.

“So, what now?” Maul asked, looking down at where he was still connected to Kenobi cautiously again.

“Aftercare is what you’re supposed to do, unless you’re planning on being a bad partner or arranged something beforehand,” Jango explained. Because, once again, if Maul was going to this much of a novice, Jango was going to help the galaxy have one less idiot when it came to sex.

Jango reached a hand up and started petting Kenobi’s hair. From what he could tell through the glove, it seemed as soft as it looked. And Kenobi seemed to push back into the hand, seeking contact.

“Aftercare?” had anyone even given this kid a single lecture on what good, safe sex was?

“help take each other down from the hormones and make sure everyone’s okay. In better circumstances also probably rehydrating, although I doubt we’ll be doing much of that or anything else in the last ten minutes of this,” Jango commented. Maul looked like he was processing the information before he looked down and slowly slid out.

“I will not require any, then,” Maul said. Which was ridiculous, but Jango suspected, given the man’s tone, that he wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise.

Oh well, Kenobi was nice and warm even through his armor and bodysuit, and Jango had always appreciated a good cuddle after sex.

Kenobi, in his still blissed out state, didn’t seem to mind.

That was actually a bit concerning.

“He seems to have hit an empathetic peak. He’ll come down in about five minutes,” Maul said, like he was reading Jango’s mind. Kriffing force users.

Jango cut the cable holding Kenobi’s hands up and Maul casually moved their arc so he wouldn’t be hit before letting them fall down, hitting the sides of the basket.

“So, what’s your plan now?” Jango asked. Maul looked up at him questioningly.

“Since you don’t want to kill him anymore, what’s your plan?” Jango clarified.

“What makes you think I won’t try to kill him again as soon as we get out of here?” Maul responded, voice hard. Jango rolled his eyes, not having any reason to hide it behind his helmet.

“And if you are? What after? You’re not Republic or Separatist, you seem to have no motivation besides killing Kenobi, but you don’t seem the sort to kill yourself after finishing your business,” Jango said, keeping his voice level and far more casual than Maul’s.

Maul leveled a calculating glare at him, “It is time for the Sith to reappear in the galaxy. I will raise the Sith back into our deserved glory with my brother, free of the artificial chains my master and the rest of the line of Bane have addled us with.”

Sounded like more force nonsense. Still, that seemed to be a constant in the galaxy that Jango would just have to deal with. And if the Maul’s former master was who he was starting to suspect they were, then this could be useful.

“And what would you say to working separate from the Republic and CIS to build this new Sith?” he asked. Maul’s glare lessened into a more neutral calculating look.

“Are you proposing an alliance?” Maul asked, a smile starting to tug on his lips.

“So it would seem. I know a place that could use some freeing,” freedom seemed something Maul both had, desired, and was still searching for, “from many influences, including the Republic and Separatists. You could have a place there to do as you please,” Jango offered. Maul narrowed his eyes again.

“And what, after my initial assistance in taking back over, would you get out of this alliance?” Maul asked. He wasn’t just a quick learner, then, also very smart. Jango shrugged.

“Can’t seem to go very far in this galaxy without running into force users and their drama. I’d rather pick which ones my people are dealing with. Especially if they’re willing to take care of any other force users who might start getting ideas,” Jango posited. There was a long history between Sith and Mandalorians. Sometimes the type of Sith didn’t even try to betray them. Jango thought he could afford to give Maul a chance.

“And what about him?” Maul asked, tilting his head at Kenobi, who was still enjoying Jango’s ministrations, but also seemed to be getting breath back to normal. They probably didn’t have long.

“Do you actually still want to kill him?” Jango asked. As fun as he found teasing the man, especially now that he’d gotten to try it outside of the battlefield, he was probably willing to let Maul kill Kenobi to guarantee this alliance, to help get Mandalore back.

“No,” Maul replied before shrugging, “at least not this time. I may change my mind back in the future, of course, but not right now.”

Jango nodded, “don’t have an exact plan for him yet. But right now I think I want to let him go. Let him cause some more trouble for Dooku,” Jango said.

The CIS seemed to be at the point where they didn’t really need Dooku, even if their military would take a hit. Jango had started biding his time to find an opportunity to kill the man for the past month. Letting Kenobi cause him more trouble was something he was more than willing to do.

“That is acceptable for now, then,” Maul agreed.

“Fantastic. I look forward to working with you, Maul,” Jango said, stopping his petting to hold his hand out.

“Likewise, Fett,” Maul replied, returning the gesture and shaking hands with him.

Jango went back to petting Kenobi, even as the man started making little sounds again, like he was waking up.

He had a feeling that the galaxy was in no way prepared for their alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I blame things on a fever dream when I only have a cold and don't dream? This entire concept is ridiculous, no matter how seriously this smut was treated, but here you go: the Jango-lives, Maul-gets-his-bio-legs-back AU where there's a JangoObiMaul threesome that nobody asked for (except Herothief, after I told him about it), but y'all are getting anyways.
> 
> And if you actually read this ridiculousness, then it's your own dang fault and I offer no apologies.


End file.
